


Okay, I Feel Better Now

by Harleydoll



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Angst, Charles Getting Uncomfortable, Comfort, Cuddling and Snuggling, Erik has Issues, Humour, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mutants, Poor Charles, Protective Erik, Psychological Disorder, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-17
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-26 04:41:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harleydoll/pseuds/Harleydoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The AU in which Erik is sent to a mental health facility after being convicted for Shaw's murder and pleads insanity, and Charles is his paranoid schizophrenic of a roommate. Powers, Hellfire conspiracies, protective!Erik, and of course the inevitable angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been in the works for over a month now, and I'm finally satisfied enough with it to start posting. I'm in this one for the (relatively) long haul, so hopefully you guys will enjoy it!  
> The title is taken from a song by AFI, partially because the lyrics fit where I want this to go, and partially because I just really like the way the title suited so well ^_^

The Westchester Mental Health and Rehabilitation Center didn't look like it could function as anything but condemned. One good gust of wind and the decrepit old building would be reduced to rubble, Erik thought as he approached the gates flanked by armed guards. Not that it would make much of a difference.

“Home sweet home,” one of the guards pushed him up the steps and into a brightly lit reception area. Erik looked around in surprise. The interior was pristine, and everything, from the furniture to the receptionist's tapping fingernails, was a sterile, over-sanitized white. She looked up as they approached, and Erik suddenly felt dirty and conspicuous in his grey prison wear and desperate need of a shave.

“Name?”

“Erik Lehnsherr,” the guard responded. “Charged with first degree murder--”

“That will be sufficient.” Erik turned to face a woman in a white pantsuit, blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. “Dr. Emma Frost.” She offered her hand and Erik took it, temporarily forgetting his misgivings about cleanliness. “Chief of Staff.” Then, to the guards, “You're free to go.”

“We were ordered to remain with the prisoner until he was secured within the facility.”

“He is secure enough with me.” Dr. Frost fixed the guards with an icy stare. They both nodded swiftly and disappeared, leaving Erik to follow Frost down a long corridor.

“You'll be sharing a room, of course,” she glanced back at him with a smile that was unsettling in its practiced precision.

“Of course,” Erik muttered.

The corners of her mouth turned downwards as she faced forward. “Our facility is small, but what we lack in size we make up for in quality treatment. Your roommate has been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and regularly experiences both visual and auditory hallucinations. Tread carefully and try not to make any sudden movements until he adjusts to your presence.”

“I should tread carefully?”

“Rest assured, he's been given the same caution.” She stopped in front of Room 134 and looked Erik in the eye. “The first thing you need to learn here is that here you are not unique, and you're certainly not the first manic depressive we've admitted. Each of my patients is here because they have become a danger to themselves and to society, so don't think you'll be given preferential treatment just because you've got blood on your hands. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Erik replied. What did he care what she thought of him? She couldn't possibly think less of him that he thought of himself. He knew he wasn't worthy of any special attention. He was only here because it was preferable to spending the next ten plus years getting manhandled in the shower and walking in circles around a concrete exercise yard.

“Good.” She opened the door ushered Erik inside to face two single beds on opposite sides of the room. The pile of blankets on the bed to the left shifted to reveal a mop of unruly brown hair, followed by a pair of the most stunning blue eyes Erik had ever seen. They were huge and alert, darting from Dr. Frost to Erik and back again.

“Charles, this is your new roommate, Erik Lehnsherr. The one Dr. MacTaggart told you about?”

“I remember.” his voice was quiet but firm, and cultured by a hint of a British accent. “I'm not stupid.”

“Do try to be courteous in front of your guest, dear.”

“Why? It's not like he'll be here for long anyway. No one wants to stay with me.”

“I don't want to be here in the first place, if it's any consolation.”

Charles sat up and looked at Erik with great interest. “You've killed a man.”

“Yes, I have.” There was no point in hiding it, this place was probably full of rumours already.

“Why?”

Erik blinked. “I'm sorry?”

“I'm not entirely sure this is an appropriate topic of conversation,” Dr. Frost cut in. “Erik, your new clothes are on your bed, and there's a shower across the hall should you so desire. You'll find the laundry hamper there as well.”

“I can just...go take a shower?”

Dr. Frost flashed her pristine smile at him. “This is a hospital, not a prison. If something is off-limits, we lock the door. Otherwise, show up for your therapy sessions and do as you please.” She pivoted on her heel and exited the room, closing the door behind her.

“You'll have to watch her.” Erik spun to face Charles, who had pushed the blankets out of the way and was hugging his knees to his chest. “She gets in your head and makes you feel like you're three inches tall. They say she'll make you confess even your most well-kept secrets.”

“The other patients?”

“Oh, yes. I hear their thoughts scritch-scratching in the back of my head, trying to be heard, trying to make me...make me...” he trailed off, his current state of lucidity apparently wearing off.

“Frost said you hear things,” Erik said cautiously, taking a step towards him.

“I don't hear things. I hear everyone, all the time, in my head. The voices, they burrow so deep I can't get them out and it's like a hundred people talking at once, yelling and crying and laughing and don't even get me started on the split personalities...”

“Imaginary friends with split personalities,” Erik muttered. “Wonderful.”

“They're not imaginary!” Charles exclaimed, his body shaking as he curled into himself.

“Alright, just relax, will you?” Erik snatched his clothes off the bed and headed for the door. “Forget I said anything.” He slipped out into the hallway, stripping off articles of clothing as he went. Ignoring the laundry hamper, he stuffed them into a nearby garbage can and entered the showers.

~~~

Erik returned to the room clean, shaved, and wearing his new white pants and v-neck t-shirt. Charles was still in the same position, and he didn't look up as Erik stretched out on his own bed and stared up at the ceiling. The room was silent but for Charles' incoherent mumblings, presumably in response to whatever new voices he imagined were eating away at his brain. Erik supposed he would have to get used to it, what with being stuck in this place for the next few years at least. Still, it was a bit unnerving listening to him chatter away like that.

“Don't they give you pills for that or something?”

Charles' head snapped up with a start. “Pills?”

“Well that's usually how it goes, right? These so-called doctors, they listen to you prattle on about your issues for half an hour and then stick you on some form of anti-psychotic drug to make you shut up and behave.”

“You're telling me I need to shut up.” His head tilted to one side.

“I'm telling you that if you don't I'm going to have to come over there and make you, because I can't listen to that all night.”

“I can't just turn it off, I can't just, I can't,” he shook his head furiously. “Pills don't do anything anymore, I've been through so many. This place is toxic, it's so sterile I can't breathe, it's eating me alive...” his eyes widened as he stared at Erik. “Have you been outside lately?”

“Of course I have, idiot. How do you think I got here?” Erik was getting more irritable by the second, and it took everything in him not to cross the room and punch this little prick in the face.

“Did you see the sun?”

“Obviously. Are you done interrogating me now?”

Charles was silent for a moment, and Erik let out a sigh of relief.

“I haven't seen the sun in almost four years.”

Erik sat up and looked at him, really looked at him for the first time since they'd met only an hour before. Charles' skin was pale and translucent, and he could see every last vein and artery pulsing in his neck and arms. He was thin too, not quite at the point of malnutrition but so fragile-looking that Erik was afraid to touch him. _Why would I want to touch him anyway? He's a goddamn mental case_.

Charles shrank back into the bed as if he'd spoken aloud, and Erik found himself coming over to sit beside him.

“You've been in here all this time?”

Charles nodded. “I...I'm not supposed to be around people.”

“It gets worse when you're around more people. The voices.”

Another nod.

Erik paused for a moment before speaking again. “He killed my mother.”

Charles looked up at him. “I'm sorry?”

“When I first came in. You asked why I killed him.”

“Oh. You were close then? You and your mother?”

“Very.”

“I don't remember my mother, except that she put me in a mental ward for youth when I was six. That was the last I saw of her.”

“That's awful,” Erik said, and was surprised that he meant it.

Charles slid over and rested his cheek on Erik's shoulder. “I like you,” he said. “you're the first person that's ever listened to me.”

“Well who knows when you'll be this lucid again? In a place like this, I have to take what I can get.”

Charles smiled and snuggled into Erik's arm. Erik froze, uncertain of what to do next, and settled for leaning back against the wall. He'd detach himself once he was asleep, and by the sound of Charles' deep breathing, it wouldn't take long. He'd just sit here for a few minutes and then shift on over to his own bed. Maybe he'd just close his eyes a little, after all it had been a long day and his bed seemed so far away. Just a few minutes, he repeated to himself, just a few more minutes, and before long he too had drifted off to sleep.

~~~

Erik woke with his cheek resting on top of Charles head. Charles, for his part, had not moved since last night, and was still sleeping peacefully against Erik's arm. He gently pushed Charles off of him and made his escape to his own bed. Charles sat up and blinked his big blue eyes at Erik.

“Sorry I dozed off on you, but you didn't seem to--”

“We're not speaking of this,” Erik cut him off sharply. “And if you touch me again I'll break your hand.”

Charles paled under Erik's glare and scurried under the covers without another word. Jesus, did this kid ever leave his bed? As if on cue, there was a knock at the door, and young blonde nurse entered the room with a tray of food.

“Morning, Charles,” she greeted the quivering mess of sheets, ignoring Erik completely. “I've brought your breakfast.”

Charles tentatively re-emerged and accepted the tray, setting it down on the bed beside him, and Raven produced four white pills of various sizes, along with one conspicuous blue one. Charles eyed them warily, but took them from her nonetheless.

“Down the rabbit hole then?” He forced a smile and downed the first two white ones, not bothering to chase them with water.

The nurse frowned. “You really shouldn't take those dry.”

“So you keep telling me, Raven.”

“And I'll keep telling you until you start listening. And you,” she said, glancing at Erik, “can go down to the commissary and get your own breakfast.”

“Um. Thanks.” Erik stood and made to leave.

“By the way,” Raven's yellow-flecked eyes bored into his. “I heard what you said before I came in, and if you even think about hurting Charles, you'll live to regret it.”

“Oh Raven, he didn't mean anything by it.”

“Your blind faith in people astounds me sometimes.”

Erik tuned out their bickering and slipped out of the room. Great, he thought. Threatened by an overprotective nurse and defended by a drug-dependent schizoid. Frost was right about one thing at least – he was definitely going to have to tread a bit more carefully around here.

~~~

He located the cafeteria without difficulty and, snatching a tray from the stack next to the door, joined the lineup for breakfast. It was a large square room featuring white on white walls and furniture (of course, Erik thought) right down to the trays, plates, and, cutlery, which, he noted, were all plastic. A quick visual sweep confirmed that there was no metal anywhere, and he quickly thought back to his own room. Were the beds metal? He hadn't thought to check, but then again he also hadn't thought he'd be interned in a bloody plastic prison.

“Move it or lose it!” A muscular blonde elbowed Erik back to the present. He looked down at his tray to find that he'd already been served with what appeared to be oatmeal and a side of very burnt toast. Erik nodded curtly at the young man and found an empty table in the far corner of the room and sat down, his back to the wall. To his surprise and irritation, the blonde came over and sat across from him, along with a smaller red-haired boy who sat as close to the former as possible.

“You're the new arrival,” the blonde said matter-of-factly. “The name's Alex Summers. You're Erik, right?”

 _At least try to be civil, you're stuck with these people for who knows how long_ , Erik thought. “How could you tell?”

“Well for one, you're sitting at our table without an invite.”

“What is this, high school?”

Alex laughed. “Playground politics, man. Go with the flow and you get to keep your lunch money. Or, in this place, you get to keep your sanity. You're lucky you sat here and not the other corner,” he nodded his head to the far right, “with the schizoids. Generally harmless, but if you piss off the voices they'll turn violent at the drop of a hat.”

Erik raised an eyebrow. “The schizoids?”

“Oh right, you got the closet case as your roommate right? Look if I offended you...”

“Hey! Who's the newbie?” A petite brunette girl slid into the chair next to Erik with a smile. “Well Alex, are you going to introduce us?”

“Angel, this is Erik. He's in 134, with Xavier. And speaking of which, this is my roommate Sean.”

The boy glanced up at the sound of his name and gave a small half-smile. “Hey.”

Angel ignored him, still appraising Erik. “Did you guys start betting without me? Because you know I'm gonna want in.”

“What bet?” Erik cut in.

“Every time Charles gets a new roommate, we bet on how long he'll last,” Angel explained. “The guy before you lasted three weeks, two days before he finally cracked. Kept going on about how Charles got into his head, made him see things that weren't there. But you know what I think?” she leaned closer to Erik.

“What?”

“I think he was just off his meds and didn't want to face Frost!” She giggled, but quickly became serious again. “I don't blame him though, that woman is a piece of work. No one wants to get on her bad side.”

“Quit trying to scare the new guy, Angel,” Alex said sternly.

“Oh come on, I'm just having a little fun. Besides, he doesn't seem the type to scare easy.” She turned back to Erik. “So anyway--”

“Angel.”

“What?”

“Where's your breakfast?”

“I ate already,” she replied brusquely.

Alex held her gaze for a few seconds until she gave in with a sigh. “I'll eat later, I promise. It's just that I'm supposed to have lunch with Dr. Reyes and if I eat now I won't be able to in front of her.”

“Well I'm off,” Erik said, standing and tucking in his chair.

“So soon?” Angel pouted. “But we were just getting to know each other!”

“I have, ah, therapy,” Erik lied. “Um. Nice to meet you.” He nodded slightly and strode off, leaving Alex and Angel to their gossip and bickering.

In truth, he had no idea when his therapy sessions were, nor did he have any idea where he was going. He found himself passing rooms 201 through 216, and wondered for a moment if he had gone upstairs without realizing it. Erik shrugged and kept walking, thinking he'd just walk in a circle until he made it back to his room. The place couldn't possibly be that big.

He kept walking, passing door after numbered door. “How many patients are in this place?” he muttered.

“More than we can handle.” Dr. Frost placed a hand on Erik's shoulder, who silently cursed for letting her get the jump on him. “Out for a little morning excursion, then?”

“You said I was free to go anywhere that wasn't a locked door.”

“That I did. Any particular reason you're wandering aimlessly about the premises?”

“Took a wrong turn,” Erik admitted. For some reason he felt compelled to tell the truth. And why shouldn't he? He didn't have anything to hide. “I was just trying to get back to my room, actually.”

Frost smiled as though she were humoring him. “Straight down the hall, turn left, then turn left again.”

Erik nodded and turned to leave.

“And Erik?” He could feel her eyes boring into the back of his head as she spoke, her voice soft but grating in his ears. “Your first therapy session is on Thursday, at 2:30. Do try to be present in your room when the orderly comes to collect you.”

Erik nodded again and hurried down the hall, eager to put some distance between them. She seemed to have a way of getting under his skin and staying there, like a bad chill that just wouldn't go away. He flashed back to his childhood in Germany, where the winters were so cold and brittle that even the countless layers of blankets his mother piled on top of him could not keep out the cold. That was how he felt now, like he couldn't get far enough from Frost's icy presence.

He didn't allow himself to relax until he had entered his room and closed the door securely behind him.

“Had a run in with our fearless leader?” Charles was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a battered copy of _The Count of Monte Cristo_ open in his hands. To his left sat a small stack of equally well worn novels.

“How do you know where I was? And more importantly, where did you get those books?”

“You seem...cold.” Charles shrugged. “The books are from the rec room. Raven brings me a new set every week. You're welcome to them if you like.”

“Oh I would more than 'like',” Erik sat down across from him and began rifling through the books. “I haven't been allowed books in weeks.”

The stack consisted of _Jane Eyre, A Study in Scarlet, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ , and a couple of generic Harlequin romances - “Interesting selection,” Erik commented.

“Our library operates purely on donations. We take what we can get.”

“Fair enough.” He picked up _Jane Eyre_ and flipped through the pages.

“You can have this one when I'm done,” Charles offered, holding up _The Count of Monte Cristo_. “It's about a young man who gets sent to prison for a crime he doesn't commit, and then he escapes, becomes rich and powerful, and exacts his revenge on the ones who took his life away. The way he goes about it is extremely cunning, too. You see he was supposed to marry this woman...”

As Erik listened to Charles chatter on happily about Edmond Dantes and his quest for revenge, he couldn't help but notice how attractive that British accent was. He would listen to Charles ramble on about nothing all night long just for that delicious accent-- stop it, Erik thought fiercely. He dropped the book and rested his head in his hands, trying to call something, anything to mind that would distract him. He settled on the look of surprise and fear as Erik mentally commanded the coin to pierce Shaw's skull with slow and almost surgical precision. _I'm going to count to three, and I'm going to move the coin..._

“Are you alright?” Charles was staring at him in consternation.

“Hm? Yeah, just fine.” Erik lifted his head and forced a smile.

“Are you sure? I must have asked you a few times if you were alright.”

“Fine,” Erik repeated, a note of impatience creeping into his voice.

Charles dropped his own book and shrank back, unsure of what to do with himself. Erik sighed and slid over beside him, picking the book back up and placing it in Charles' shaking hands.

“Would you read it to me?” Erik asked. Charles met his eyes shyly and nodded. “Good. Start from the beginning, then.”

Charles smiled and began to read. “On the 24th of February, 1815, the Notre-Dame de la Garde signaled the three-master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik adjusts to life at the mental health center and has his first therapy session with Dr. Frost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update, Chapter 3 should be up much faster as soon as I figure out where to end it >.

There were no clocks in the rooms, but Erik quickly learned to improvise. Raven brought Charles' meals at 10 am, 2 pm, and 6 pm. Three meals a day, three constants with which to mark the passage of time. On top of that there were wall clocks in the cafeteria and, Raven said, the rec room, but Erik hadn't been over there yet. Instead, he found himself returning to his own room every day after breakfast, where Charles would read to him for an hour or so before getting distracted by whatever was going on in his head.

On this particular morning, Charles lost focus sooner than usual, dropping the book and bringing his knees to his chest as he muttered incoherently. Erik had learned from experience that it was best just to leave him alone until he lapsed into silence, passed out, or both, at which point Erik would help him into bed before going to the weight room to meet Alex.

It had been four days since Erik's encounter with Frost, and as he picked up _Monte Cristo_ and dog-eared the page they'd left off on, he wondered not for the first time when exactly Thursday would come. He'd made sure he was back before 2:30 every day, but no one ever came to get him. Erik thought back to when he'd arrived. April 17th – he knew that much, which made it the 21st now. But what day of the week was it?

He glanced down at Charles, who was now moving his lips wordlessly and digging his nails into his arms. Erik knelt back down beside him with a sigh and gently pried his hands away.

“That's enough of that. Self-mutilation is Marie's bit, not yours.”

Charles glanced sideways at him. “That's not why she wears those gloves. She told me so.” He touched two fingers to his temple. “In here, she whispers.”

“Let's get you into bed.” Erik helped him to his feet and wrapped a hand around his arm to steady him.

“You don't believe me,” Charles said, confusion flickering across his face. “You try to think like them, but you're not them. You have your secrets, just like Marie. Just like me.” He sat down on the bed, feet barely grazing the floor.

“Drop it, Charles. They're called secrets for a reason.”

“It's comforting, isn't it?”

Erik paused, his hand tightening around the door handle. “What?”

“The weight room. It's the only place, other than the back kitchen, where metal is allowed. But you already knew that.”

“I said drop it,” Erik growled. He yanked the door open and stalked out, slamming it behind him.

He couldn't possibly know, Erik thought as he strode down the hallway. No one knows.

~~~

When Erik returned over an hour later, skin flushed from his longer than usual shower, he was surprised to find an orderly he'd never seen before waiting in the hallway.

“You're late,” he said, brushing a strand of shoulder-length dark hair from his face.

“For what?” Erik glanced at his name tag, which read “Janos”. An unusual name, he thought, but then again this was an unusual place.

“Therapy,” Janos replied before pivoting on his heel and starting down the hall.

Erik reluctantly followed, sparing a brief glance back at his room. He had hoped to check on Charles when he got back, but supposed if Raven came by on schedule then he'd be just fine on his own for awhile.

Janos led him through a maze of corridors to an ancient but pristine elevator, whose doors opened with a loud creak when they arrived. They entered and Janos pushed the number 4 and the elevator rumbled into motion, carrying them upwards at a painfully slow pace.

After what seemed like an eternity the doors opened again to reveal a long carpeted hallway lined with solid oak doors, each labelled with a room number and a name. Erik spotted McCoy, Reyes, Mactaggart, and Rao as they walked, and wondered which of these doctors would be his. They turned a corner and continued walking, past Gallio, Pierce, Wyngarde, and Leland before stopping in front of the last door on the right, labelled “Frost”. Erik stared at the name, willing it to morph into something less foreboding, but the letters refused to change

“Should I...” he looked back, but Janos was gone, and the only indication of his departure was the door to the emergency stairwell swinging shut. Erik sighed and raised his hand to knock.

“Enter.”

Erik obeyed, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Frost was sitting behind a stylish ovular glass desk featuring a neat stack of white file folders, one of which was open before her.

“You're late.”

“So I've heard.” He took stock of the other items on her desk as he spoke. “Although in my defense, time seems to be a relative concept in this place.”

A white desk lamp, three pale blue pens neatly lined up next to a glass paperweight and – ah. An opened box of paper clips, with a few scattered haphazardly near the edge of the table. As if on cue, Frost daintily picked on out of the box and slid it in place over what Erik recognized as his own photo before closing the file.

“You'll learn,” she replied simply. “Now, sit and let's begin before we lose any more time.” She fixed her gaze on him and smiled with forced sincerity. “Do you know why you're here?”

“I'm here because I killed someone.” Erik took a seat on the plush white office chair across from her.

“Really Erik, if that were the only reason, you'd be in a state penitentiary right now.” Frost leaned forward and rested her chin on her knuckles. “Why are you really here?”

Erik stared back at her. “I killed someone and got off on an insanity plea, because the very thought of entering another prison makes me want to take a power drill to my skull.” He stopped and blinked. He hadn't meant to say any of that, but for some reason he felt compelled to speak to this woman.

“You mean the orphanage,” Frost said, then, “oh don't look so surprised. It's all in your file, honey.”

Erik nodded slowly. No point in hiding it, then. “I'd rather not repeat the experience.”

“Understandable.” She paused, as though waiting for him to speak, but Erik didn't take the bait, choosing instead to glance around the rest of the room. To his left sat a snow white leather sofa that appeared unused, though judging by the style it was at least a few years old. Beside that was a narrow white door, which Erik assumed opened into a closet, although he wouldn't be surprised if it led to a back room instead. Behind Frost was a large picture window, left tantalizingly open to the outside world. The sun streamed in and shimmered in her blonde hair like a halo, but did not quite reach Erik despite his being only an extra three feet away.

“You were in and out of St. Mary's for nearly four years after your mother died, correct?”

“She was murdered.”

“I'm sorry?”

“She didn't just die. She was murdered.” Erik focused on the paper clip closest to the edge of the desk, willing it to fall into his hand. It inched little by little across the table, its movements barely noticeable, but Erik was patient. He'd been patient his entire life, what was a few more moments?

“Indeed.” She pursed her lips. “And that's why you killed Shaw.”

Erik nodded again, keeping an eye on the paper clip in his peripheral vision. Just a little more...

“But what I'm really interested in,” Frost continued, “is how you killed him.”

“I shot him in the head. Point blank.” The paper clip dropped into Erik's hand, and he closed his fingers around it in triumph.

“Yes, that's what the official report said.”

“Then why are you asking?”

“Just making sure.”

“Making sure of what? That I know what happened?” Erik smiled at her, all teeth and with no emotion behind it. “I was there. I could go into detail if you like, from the moment I walked into the room to the look of confusion and pain etched on his face as the bullet entered his brain.” He laughed shortly. “I thought his eyes were going to pop right out of his head, they were bulging so far out of his skull.”

“Do you feel any remorse for your actions, Erik?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because there's a hole in the goddamn bucket.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Harry Belafonte. This conversation seems to have come full circle, Doctor.” He sat back in the chair, stroking the paper clip between thumb and forefinger. “Exactly how many times would you like to hear that my mother was murdered before my eyes?”

“As many as it takes you to come to terms with it.”

“Don't worry, killing Shaw took care of that already.”

“So it would seem.” Frost stood up from the desk and strode past Erik, her pointed heels clacking across the white laminate floor as she moved behind him and opened the door. “That will be all for today.”

Erik rose to his feet, glancing around to check the time. Once again, however, there was no clock to be found. Ensuring that the paper clip was safely concealed in his palm, he walked past her and into the hallway, where Janos was already waiting.

“I expect to see you at 2:30 sharp next week.” The door closed before Erik could respond, and he stared at the oak panels for a moment before turning and jogging down the hall after the silent orderly, who was already halfway down the hall.

~~~

 _“I'm going to count to three, and you're going to move the coin.” Shaw smiled, one hand resting lightly on Erik's mother's shoulder while the other pressed the barrel of a handgun to her temple.. Erik focused on the coin, willing it to move, willing it to do anything that could save her, but it refused to yield to him._

 _“One.”_

 _He thrust out his hands, fingers flexed as he screwed up his face in concentration. Still nothing._

 _“Two.”_

 _He glanced up at his mother in fear and she tried to smile reassuringly. “Alleste ist gut,” she whispered._

 _“Three.”_

 _The gunshot was too loud in the small office, but Shaw didn't seem to notice. He continued to smile even as the body fell to the ground, even as Erik began to scream--_

 _But he didn't, not this time, this time the office fell away and Shaw evaporated into a grey haze, leaving Erik alone with his mother. He ran to her side and fell to his knees, cradling her lifeless form in his lap--_

Erik woke to find Charles' arms wrapped around his abdomen, forehead pressed against his own. He shot up in bed, knocking Charles onto the floor.

“What the hell are you doing?” His face felt oddly damp, and when he touched his cheeks he found that he'd been crying.

“I...you had a nightmare.” Charles attempted to scramble away, bare feet skittering uselessly on the floor. “I just, I wanted to help, I wanted to...” his eyes widened with fear as Erik scowled and reached out towards him.

“Oh, for...” Erik grabbed Charles roughly by the arm and hauled him back into the bed. “Come here,” he snapped. He wrapped one arm around Charles' trembling form and pulled him close, simultaneously covering them both with the blanket.

Charles hazarded a glance up at the other man's face and was met with anger, confusion, and another emotion that neither of them could place. He shivered and cuddled closer, tucking his face into the crook of Erik's neck.

Erik stiffened as he felt Charles' warm breath on his skin, uneasy yet somehow calmed by his closeness. He thought briefly of tossing Charles right out of bed again, but quickly decided against it. It had to be either one or the other, and tonight, it seemed, was the other.

Erik fell asleep with Charles wrapped tightly in his arms, and this time he didn't dream.

~~~

He didn't wake when the door opened, or when Raven nearly dropped the tray in surprise when she saw the two of them cocooned in Erik's bed. He didn't even stir when another woman entered behind her, black kitten heels clacking across the floor. Charles, on the other hand, lifted his head and smiled brightly at both women before trailing his fingertips along Erik's jawline.

Erik's eyes fluttered open and he blinked, trying to orient himself. Charles took advantage of his half-conscious state and slipped out of his embrace, careful not to fall out of bed again.

“What do you think you're doing?” Raven demanded. She had set the tray down on Charles' empty bed and crossed her arms. The other woman, a petite brunette in a dark grey pantsuit and white lab coat, pursed her lips but remained silent.

Charles snatched up the paper cup holding that morning's selection of pills. He poured them into his hand and began tossing them into his mouth like popcorn, swallowing them one after another without pausing for water.

“Is it Friday already, Dr. MacTaggart?” he ignored Raven's outburst and addressed the brunette to her right.

The woman, Dr. MacTaggart, nodded. “Perhaps your...friend...would like to go for breakfast while we conduct our session?”

They both glanced over at Erik, who had just sat up in bed. He stared back at them both before standing and slipping out of the room without another word. Raven followed him out and got ahead of him, blocking his path to the commissary.

“Why was Charles in your bed?”

“None of your business.” ” Erik tried to move past her, but she blocked his way again.

“Not good enough.”

“I don't know. Something about nightmares.” He pushed past her and she had to jog to catch up with him.

“And you let him stay?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

Raven stopped walking, taken aback by his indifference. “No really. Why are you humouring him?”

Erik disappeared around the corner, leaving her without an answer, because in truth he wasn't sure he had one.

The cafeteria was full when he arrived, but as soon as he had his food he spotted Alex waving him over from the far corner.

“Saved you a seat,” he said as Erik approached the table, which was already populated by Alex, Sean, Angel, and Ororo, a striking young African girl with hair as white as...well, as everything else in the place, Erik thought.

“No Darwin today?” Erik took the offered seat next to Angel and transferred one of his pancakes to an extra paper plate before shoving it in front of her. “Here. Eat.”

“He had to leave early for therapy,” Alex replied. “Speaking of which, how was your first session with Frost?”

“Fine.” Erik glanced back at Angel. “I said eat.”

She glared at him, but picked up her fork and took a bite, chewing slowly and deliberately. He nodded, satisfied, and returned to his own meal.

“Just 'fine'?” Alex pressed. “You've got to be pretty special to have her as your doctor.”

“Frost said no one's special here.”

“Lies,” Angel cut in. “She just wants you to think you're part of the masses, so that you'll behave. Want to know what I think?”

“No,” Alex and Erik spoke in unison.

“Hmmph.” Angel sulked. She poked at the pancake on her plate.

“Eat,” Erik repeated, giving her a nudge.

“What do you care?” she reluctantly lifted another forkful to her lips.

“The crazies, I can deal with. But I'm not going to sit here and watch you starve yourself when I've spent years living on less than one meal a day.”

The table went silent, all eyes on Erik. Even Sean looked up from his plate, his gaze flicking from face to face in confusion.

Angel looked back down at her barely eaten pancake. She grimaced, but, with one more glance at Erik, stabbed it with her fork and began to eat. There was a collective sigh of relief and Ororo quickly filled the silence by talking about her work in the greenhouse.

“You should come up sometime, Erik,” she said.

“Come on, 'Ro. You know you need permission from Frost to go up there,” Alex interjected.

“Yeah, but she's his doctor, so she'll probably let him go. Right, Erik?”

Erik nodded, only half paying attention. “Sure.”

“See?” Ororo smiled. “He's not afraid of Frost like you guys are.”

“Says the girl who wouldn't climb through the ventilation shaft for a midnight snack.”

“That's just mean, Alex. You know I'm claustrophobic.”

Erik tuned out their chattering, lost in thought. The greenhouse was on the top floor, accessible by the service elevator and the emergency stairwell. He could get up there without Frost even knowing, but if he wanted to take Charles he'd probably need some sort of permission. He wondered if Charles had been up there before, to at least get a glimpse of what he was missing while locked away.

“I said, are you happy now?” Angel elbowed Erik's arm, bringing him back into the conversation.

“Hmm?”

“Look. Empty plate. Happy?”

Erik glanced over, and sure enough she had eaten the entire pancake. “I'm not unhappy.”

“Good. I'm out of here.” She stood to leave and Ororo soon followed, nodding briefly to the rest of the table before exiting the room.

With Angel gone the conversation dwindled, and soon Alex and Sean left as well, leaving Erik alone with his thoughts. He'd forgotten to check what time he got there, and had no idea when that other doctor would be finished with Charles. He decided to go back to the room anyway. Maybe Dr. Mac-whatever it was would endorse Erik's taking Charles to the greenhouse without him having to talk to Frost.

~~~

Charles was alone when Erik returned, lying on flat on his stomach with a deck of cards laid out before him on the floor. He looked up and smiled as Erik came in.

“Want to play?”

“Solitaire's generally a one-person game,” Erik replied, but he sat down across from Charles and crossed his legs.

“We can play something else.” Charles gathered the cards up and began to shuffle. “Crazy eights, maybe?”

“That's a children's game.”

Charles' face fell. “It's the only one I know.”

Of course he didn't know any other games, Erik thought. He'd only been locked up and treated like a freak for almost his entire life. Erik knew exactly what that felt like.

“Fine, whatever you want,” he sighed.

Charles lit up once again. “Great! I haven't played with anyone in ages.”

He dealt the cards and they played in silence, broken only by Charles occasionally chastising Erik for playing the wrong card.

“So,” Erik finally said, trying to sound casual. “Ororo invited me up to see her work in the greenhouse.” He moved to put down the three of spades, but, seeing Charles' look of disapproval, went for the seven of diamonds instead.

“You need permission to go up there.”

“I know. I'm going to talk to Frost. But before I do, I was wondering if you wanted to come too.”

Charles frowned. “I don't like to go places. It's quieter in here.”

“But there wouldn't be anyone else up there except Ororo and myself. Besides, aren't you even the least bit curious? Don't you get bored being in this room 24/7?”

Charles looked down at his cards. “...No.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want to come with me.”

“I...I can't,” he said softly, still avoiding Erik's gaze.

“That's not what I asked.”

“Erik, please.”

He felt a nudge in the back of his mind, _leave it alone_ , it whispered, and he decided not to push the issue further. They finished the game in silence, and then Erik made small talk about the idle gossip he overheard in the cafeteria as they played a few more rounds. By the fourth game, Erik finally paid enough attention to actually beat Charles, who had over half the deck in his hand by the end of it. Charles, for his part, just beamed happily at Erik and asked, “Again?”

Erik found himself smiling back and giving a slight nod. “Sure.” He picked up the cards and shuffled extensively before dealing out seven cards each.

“Erik.”

“Hm?”

“We're playing crazy eights.”

“I know.”

“That means eight cards.”

“I kn-- oh.” Erik blushed slightly and dealt out one more card each.

A giggle escaped Charles' lips, and he quickly covered his mouth with one hand. “Sorry.”

“Don't apologize. I like it when you laugh.” _Did I just say that out loud?_

This time, it was Charles' turn to blush.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik learns that there's far more to Charles than meets the eye. Plus, more therapy with Dr. Frost!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and leaving such wonderful comments! You give me the confidence and inspiration to keep writing, and without you lovely people this story would probably never have left my hard drive ^_^

“Do you dream, Erik?” Frost folded her hands on the glass desk, her clear blue eyes boring into Erik's.

“No.”

It wasn't a lie, not technically anyway. He hadn't dreamed at all in the past week, not since Charles had made it a regular habit to slip into his bed when he thought Erik was asleep. It was a bit unsettling how quickly they'd fallen into the pattern of Erik feigning sleep so that Charles would crawl in with him a little earlier each night, but if that was what kept away the nightmares then Erik would gladly oblige.

“What about after your mother was murdered?”

“I dreamed of her every night,” Erik replied, his tone flat and emotionless. “I saw her dying, over and over again, and each time she smiled and told me it would be alright.” He paused and met Frost's icy gaze. “It wasn't.”

“There's quite a gap between your mother's death and your admittance to St Mary's. What did you do for those three years?”

 _I was imprisoned and tortured by a madman who wanted to use me for my metal bending powers that I barely even knew I had, and who spent every waking minute ensuring that I felt guilty for not being able to save her. What's that? Be a little more specific? I could show you the scars if you like--_

“Erik, what happened to you after her death?” Frost pressed.

“Shaw happened!” Erik blurted out angrily. “He took everything from me!”

Frost smiled. “Now we're getting somewhere.”

Erik just stared. “You won't be happy unless I have a complete emotional breakdown, will you.”

She ignored his comment and continued, “Do you believe your mother lied to you, then?”

“She couldn't have known.”

“But you were still angry with her.”

“No.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“I said NO!” Erik was on his feet now, the chair pushed back against the wall behind him. “How could I be angry at her when it was my fault she was killed?”

“You're angry at her because she lied to you, and you're angry at yourself for wanting to believe it.”

“I'm angry because I spent twenty years trying to murder Shaw so that I could finally get some peace, but instead I get a therapist who's dead set on making sure I'm unable to do that!”

Frost uncrossed her legs and stood to face him. “Our time is up. You've made excellent progress today, Erik.”

Erik scowled at her and stormed out of the room. It wasn't until he was in the elevator with Janos that he realized he'd forgotten to ask about the greenhouse.

~~~

Charles was seated motionless on the floor when Erik finally returned late in the evening, leaning against the side of his bed with his legs splayed out before him. Erik ignored him, instead stretching out on his own bed and slipping a hand beneath his pillow to palm the paper clip he'd procured from Frost's office. He brought it out and stroked it lovingly while he stared at the ceiling, comforted by the cool, malleable metal against his fingertips. Then, with a quick glance at Charles to ensure his attention was elsewhere, Erik reached out with his power and gave the paper clip a slight nudge. The metal responded almost immediately to his mental touch, rising slowly but unhesitating from his fingers and hovering in midair just above his eyes.

With a slight turn of his wrist, the paper clip began to unravel, and Erik couldn't help but smile as he gently smoothed the kinks in the metal until it became perfectly straight. Satisfied, he allowed the metal to go limp, stretching and bending it with fluid grace.

“What are you doing?”

Erik snapped to attention and the paper clip, now an angry tangle of twisted wire, dropped back into his hand. “Nothing.”

Charles stared at him for a moment, unblinking, then placed two fingers to his temple. _There's no need to hide, Erik. You have your tricks, I have mine._

Erik sat up and stared at Charles. “What are you doing to me?”

 _No one believes me. No one ever believes me. But you--_

The voice in Erik's mind faltered, and Charles dropped his hand, simultaneously drawing his knees up to his chest.

“I can't— I haven't tried that in a long time.” His entire body trembled and he wrapped his arms around himself as though trying to keep from falling to pieces.

“How did you even...”

“I skipped my pills today.” Charles forced a small smile. “Chances are I won't sleep tonight, but it was worth it.”

“You were in my head!” Erik lurched forward and grabbed Charles by the shoulders. “How did you do that?”

Charles' eyes glassed over and Erik shook him hard, trying to get him to focus.

“How did you do that?” he repeated angrily.

“I tried to tell you,” Charles whispered. “You're not alone.” Then, more forcefully, “Erik, you're not alone.”

Erik released him and slumped to the floor in disbelief. All this time, he'd thought he was a freak, some sort of horrific mutation because of the way the metal spoke to him and begged for his touch, and now here was someone just like him, being made to suffer because of his own ungodly abilities.

The realization struck Erik hard, and he wondered suddenly if Charles had also experienced that one terrible day that caused his entire life to fall apart. Because that was all it took, Erik thought, just one bad day.

The revulsion must have shown in Erik's expression, for when he glanced back up, Charles had curled even further into himself, messy brown curls falling into his eyes.

“Are...are you going to leave me now?”

Erik frowned. “Why would I do that?”

“Because everyone does.”

“Yeah? Well I'm not everyone.”

Charles' entire face lit up and he threw his arms around Erik's neck, nearly bowling the other man over.

“Alright, that's enough of that,” Erik grumbled, awkwardly returning the hug before wriggling free of Charles' grasp. Charles just grinned at him, still seated partially in Erik's lap.

“I said that's enough,” but Erik couldn't prevent a small smile from ghosting across his lips.

~~~

It was Erik that found himself slipping into Charles' bed that night, ignoring the younger man's moaning and half-muttered protests as Erik crawled in beside him. He drew Charles close to offer comfort as best he could, but Charles fought back, carving angry red lines in Erik's forearms as he tried to claw and twist himself free. Erik reacted on instinct as he pinned Charles' hands between their bodies and pressed their sweaty foreheads together, the same way Charles did every night to calm his own nightmares.

“Let me in,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

 _A girl, African yet with snow white hair and piercing blue eyes, tripped and fell, her cries for help lost in the surrounding chaos. Her eyes widened as the building crumbled around her, and she opened her mouth to scream but it was too late, she was being buried alive and no one was coming to save her--_

 _\--and he was falling now, clutching his brother tightly as he pulled the cord on the parachute and tried to pretend that the plane above them wasn't burning along with their parents,but this isn't right, Erik thinks, I don't have a brother--_

 _\--They're walking home from the movie, cutting through the orchard behind her father's house, when he grabs her wrist and pulls her gently towards him._

 _“Cody,” she whispers, looking up at him through her eyelashes. Erik—no, Cody, just smiles and kisses her, teasing her lips open with his tongue, and suddenly he feels lightheaded but he attributes it to hormones, nothing more--_

 _And then he feels a sharps tug on his arm and he's being wrenched away from her, stumbling as he tries to focus on the young man that's trying to speak to him. His too-red lips are moving, but there's no sound coming out and Erik just smiles as everything fades to black._

~~~

“Erik! Erik!”

“Nngh. What happened?” Erik opened his eyes and found himself lying on a much larger bed than he was used to, and more pillows than he could count in his half-conscious haze. He glanced blearily around the room, taking in the brick fireplace, the clearly expensive oak desk, and the massive bookshelves that looked like they were ready to give under the weight of so many books. Erik turned his attention back to Charles, perched at the bedside.

“Where are we?”

“My bedroom,” Charles answered, his gaze flicking nervously to the door. “You really need to go now. If he finds out you're here, he'll hurt us both.”

“If who finds us? And what do you mean, your bedroom? Am I still in your head?” Erik sat up with a frown. “What was all that before? With the plane and that girl who called me Cody?”

Charles sighed. “Look, this really isn't the time. I need you to--”

“I think this is the perfect time, Charles. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on!”

The door flew open with a bang and a tall, dark-haired man strode into the room.

“Who is this, Charles? Did I say you could have a friend over?” He grabbed Charles by the arm and pulled him to his feet. “Answer me!”

“N-no,” he stammered, glancing fearfully behind him, but Erik was no longer in the bed, nor was he anywhere in Charles' line of vision.

The man raised his fist as if to strike and Charles braced himself for the blow, but it never came. Instead, the man's hold on Charles' arm loosened and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Erik stood in his place, furious and armed with a bloody letter opener, holding a hand out to Charles. Charles took it without hesitation, and they ran out of the room and down the long hallway.

“How do we get out of here?” Erik demanded.

Charles tugged on his arm and they stopped at the top of a set of stairs. “Did you kill him?”

“What do you care? He would have done the same to you.”

“He's still my stepfather.”

“Your—Jesus, Charles. No, I didn't kill him.”

“Good.” Charles pressed both hands to Erik's chest and gave him a push, and then he was stumbling, falling backwards down the stairs and reaching out to Charles for help, but he just stood and watched, emotionless, as Erik fell.

~~~

When Erik woke, properly this time, Charles was gone from the bed. He blinked into the harsh fluorescent light and exhaled sharply as he sat up, bracing one hand against the wall for support. Charles, meanwhile, was speaking quietly with Raven, and Erik caught the tail end of their conversation: “...really thought he killed him.”

“What just happened?”

Charles darted off the bed and was at his side in a flash. “Are you alright? I thought...well, I don't know what I thought.”

Erik shifted to make room for Charles and grimaced. “Next time you push me down a flight of stairs, at least give me fair warning.” He nodded at Raven. “What's she doing here?”

“That's it?”

“What?”

“You just took a tour through my nightmares and you're upset because I pushed you down the stairs?”

Erik shrugged. “It's no worse than my own head.”

“Congratulations, Charles, you finally found someone as messed up as you are.”

Erik glanced past Charles at Raven, who was now standing a few feet away. “No really. Why is she here?”

Charles smiled. “Because she's my sister.” He nodded at Raven and her entire body shifted, the nurse's uniform disappearing as her skin cells overturned and reformed in a deep blue hue, textured with countless tiny scales. Her long blonde hair was now a bright red, slicked back and just barely grazing her shoulders.

Erik gaped at her. “You're...”

“Yeah, I know. Blue. Get over it, metal bender.” Raven shifted back into her scrubs, blonde hair once again cascading down her back.

“I was going to say beautiful.”

Raven started. “I—what?”

“You are an exquisite creature, Raven. It's a shame you have to cover it up.”

Charles beamed at them both. “I told you he was different.”

“Apparently,” Raven replied, a small smile playing at her lips. She shook her head. “Takes one to know one, I guess.”

“So you're his sister?” Erik raised an eyebrow. “I don't quite see the resemblance.”

Charles laughed. “We're not related by blood. I found Raven in my house one night, masquerading as my mother while she raided the kitchen. I thought I was hallucinating, being at home and off my meds for the first time in months.” He trailed off, a far-off look in his eyes, and Raven quickly picked up the narrative.

“Needless to say, Charles was ecstatic when he found out I was like him, and he used his telepathy to convince his mother to adopt me. So when our stepfather, Kurt, started shipping him off to a new psych ward every few months, I went with him like this.” she gestured to her nurse's scrubs. “I couldn't take being in that house alone, and Charles needed someone to keep him sane. Relatively speaking,” she added, giving Charles' arm and affectionate squeeze.

Charles blinked. “I'm fine.”

“I know. Just making sure you're still with us,” Raven replied.

“Always. And speaking of which, you've been here for an inordinate amount of time.”

She glanced at her watch. “Right, I have other patients to see before lunch. Are you sure you're alright?”

Erik wrapped one arm possessively around Charles' shoulders. “We'll be fine.”

Raven frowned.

“Really, Raven, it's alright. I'm fine,” Charles repeated. “Go.”

“Call if you need anything.” She turned on her heel and exited the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

They both fell silent, Erik deep in thought while Charles...well, Erik wasn't sure where his head was at.

“So...what now?” Charles asked finally.

Erik looked at him. That was a good question. He'd just been pushed down a set of stairs in the mind of his telepathic roommate and met his shapeshifting foster sister who also happened to be their nurse. He laughed aloud at the absurdity of it all and Charles jumped, a hint of fear flashing across his face.

“Now,” Erik said, reaching under the bed for their worn copy of The Count of Monte Cristo, “We finish off Chapter 36. You left me hanging yesterday with the execution.”

Charles obediently took the book from him and opened it to one of many dog-eared pages, shifting back to lean against the wall.

“Aren't you the least bit concerned about what just happened here?”

Erik lowered himself down until his head was resting in Charles' lap.

“My only concern is that I didn't listen to you sooner. Now please read. There's vengeance to be had.”

“You really are a strange one, my friend.” But Charles obeyed, at least long enough to read the first paragraph before speaking up again.

“I can't take this,” he declared, tossing the book on the bed. It teetered precariously on the edge before falling to the floor.

Erik sat up and looked at him. “What?”

“If you're going to crack and leave me just do it already. I can't just sit here and read and pretend it's okay when I'm just waiting for it to fall apart.”

“Charles, I'm not going anywhere,” Erik said. “Not now, and not as long as I'm stuck in this infernal place.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Why the sudden loss of faith? You know me better than I probably know myself at this point.”

Charles sighed. “I know. It's just...everyone leaves. Or sends me away.”

“So you keep saying.” Erik gently rested a hand on Charles' thigh. “But you also told Raven that I was different. What to I have to do to prove that I am?”

“You already have, my friend. Over and over again.”

“Then what's the problem?”

Charles went silent, brow furrowed as he fidgeted with the edge of the mattress.

“Exactly. So stop worrying.” Erik patted Charles' leg reassuringly before rising from the bed. “Now, I'm going to get something to eat and you're going to relax. Understand?”

Charles nodded, and they traded a look of what Erik hoped was mutual understanding. Erik moved to leave, but paused halfway out the door.

“You know for a telepath you can be extremely thick sometimes.”

Charles smiled and waited for the door to click shut before leaning over the edge of the bed and picking the discarded novel up from the floor. He dog-eared the page where they had left off and slipped it under his pillow for a later time.

 _If there is a later time_ , his mind whispered.

“Shut up. He's coming back after breakfast.” _I hope_. The words came unbidden, peppering his thoughts with doubt and self-loathing.

“He's coming back,” Charles repeated, burrowing deep into the blankets. He slipped his hand beneath the pillow and stroked the pages of Monte Cristo, immediately comforted by the tangible connection to his absent roommate.

“He's coming back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that ending feels more ominous than I meant it to be >.> Next chapter should be up by the end of the weekend!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emma is a manipulative bitch, Charles is hopelessly bedridden, and Azazel takes an interest in Raven.  
> A lot happens in this chapter, and I have no idea when the next update is coming due to exams and holidays, so hopefully this will tie you over for awhile!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful comments and reviews, you are all amazing and make me want to keep writing ^____^ Well, that and my need to fulfill my own kinks for protective!Erik, posessive!Charles and Erik, cuddling, psychologically damaged characters, happy endings, and and overly theatrical Hellfire Club!

The corner table was empty, as were most of the others, which wasn't surprising considering how late Erik was to arrive. There were no more than six people in the cafeteria, none of which were sitting together. Erik followed suit and took his place alone at his usual table. It was so rare to have time to himself like this, and for the first few minutes Erik relished the solitude as he dug hungrily into his waffles.

His independence was short-lived, however, and he started as Angel tapped him lightly on the shoulder and slid into the seat across from him.

“Did you hear what happened to that nurse?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows conspiratorially. She snatched a slice of burnt toast off of Erik's plate and took a bite.

“Before you yell at me to eat again,” she explained.

“I didn't yell at you.”

“Whatever. Anyway, did you hear?” She was practically vibrating off of her seat with excitement.

Erik sighed. “No, Angel, I didn't hear, but I'm sure you're going to tell me any moment now.”

“Okay well you know that nurse, the blonde one-- what am I saying, of course you do, Xavier's one of her patients. Anyway, Darwin said that Marie saw this nurse getting escorted away by a couple of orderlies to see Dr. Frost.”

Erik stared at her. “Raven's in trouble?”

“Looks like it,” Angel replied. “The one orderly, the hot Latino one, didn't say a word to her, and the other one just said Frost wanted to see her. But if Dr. Frost's involved, it can't be good.”

“Does anyone else know anything?” Erik demanded.

“Nah, it all happened pretty fast. And anyway, what are you so interested for? Is she being fired for inappropriate relations with a patient?” she flashed him a mischievous grin.

“What? No! I just want to know what's going on so I can tell Charles. She is his nurse, after all.” Erik stood and shoved the remains of his meal at her. “I'll see you later. Eat.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have somewhere to be. Tell Alex I'm not lifting weights with him today.”

“What do I look like, your personal messaging service?”

But Erik was already out the door and halfway down the hall before Angel had finished speaking. He raced past his and Charles' room and, ignoring the elevator, burst through the emergency exit door and sprinted up the five flights of stairs to Frost's office.

Erik raised his hand to knock when he reached the familiar oak door, but paused when he heard the sound of muffled arguing.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Erik recognized Raven's voice, angry and defiant.

“Oh, I think you do, sugar,” came Frost's sickly sweet response. “And I think you're going to show me right now, or by the time I'm through, you'll be wishing you were smart enough to listen the first time around.”

There was a silence, and then Erik heard a shriek. He grabbed the door handle and pushed, but it was locked.

“What do you think you're doing?” A brusque Russian accent gave Erik pause. He spun around to find a dark-haired orderly, goateed and a good two inches taller than Erik, standing behind him. The name tag on his shirt read “Azazel.” Where did he come from? The hallway had been deserted only a moment ago.

“I have therapy now,” Erik lied.

“Then you would do well to knock.” Azazel leaned past Erik and tapped lightly on the door. As he did so, Erik caught something moving out of the corner of his eye. He glanced nonchalantly over the other man's shoulder. Was that...a tail? But as soon as he caught sight of it, it was gone. Erik shook his head. He must have been mistaken. Then again, with everything else he'd seen this morning, a tail didn't seem quite so farfetched anymore.

He must have missed Dr. Frost's curt “Enter”, because a moment later Erik was being ushered into the office. As always, Frost was seated primly at her desk, legs crossed at the knee as she pored over one of many files stacked to her left. This time, however, the white leather couch was occupied by a young man in a dark purple suit, his shoulder length brown hair tied back in a low ponytail. He flashed Erik a friendly smile as he came in, but Erik ignored him and glared at Frost.

“Erik. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?” She met his eyes with an icy stare of her own.

“Where is she?”

“You'll have to be a bit more specific than that.”

“Raven. The nurse. I heard her voice coming from your office.”

Frost smiled then, as though humouring him. “You heard the voice of your roommate's nurse coming from my office.”

“Yes.”

“From downstairs in the cafeteria.”

“Yes, I-- no, hang on a minute,” Erik frowned. “You're twisting my words.”

“Erik, I'm merely trying to understand what you're doing in my office without an appointment, and you're telling me it's because you heard voices.”

“That's not--”

“I do appreciate you coming to me so promptly,” Frost continued. “Admitting you have a problem is the first step.”

“My only problem is you not listening to me!” Erik lunged across the desk at her, but his fingers didn't even graze her throat before Azazel pulled him back, locking his hands around Erik's forearms.

“My, my,” the man on the couch tutted. “Anger issues, auditory hallucinations, and he's a dangerous offender. I can see why you like this one.”

“That's quite enough, Dr. Wyngarde,” Frost retorted icily. “Now Erik, what are we going to do with you? I certainly can't put you back in with Charles if you're planning on keeping up this violent behaviour.”

Erik tensed up at the mention of Charles, and Azazel tightened his grip in response.

“I would never hurt Charles.”

“At this point, Erik, I can't be certain of that. I think it's best you spent some time in solitary confinement.”

“You said this wasn't a prison!”

“It isn't,” Frost replied smoothly. “But when a patient exhibits signs of excessive violence, it is necessary to provide them with a place to cool off until they prove themselves worthy of my trust again.”

“And how long does it take to 'prove myself worthy'?” Erik demanded.

“That all depends on you, honey. Azazel, if you please.”

The Russian nodded and Erik didn't bother to fight back or even speak again until they were in the elevator.

“I need to see Charles.”

“ _Nyet_. I am to take you straight to your new accommodations without delay or detour.”

“You don't get it. I promised I'd come back.”

“You should have thought of that before you threatened Dr. Frost.”

They stopped on the second floor and turned down a short corridor with doors numbered using Roman numerals, I through XII. Azazel pushed Erik unceremoniously into room number IV and, with a slight nod, slammed the door shut and locked him in.

~~~

A dark puff of smoke signified Azazel's return to Frost's office, and as he moved to sit down on the couch Dr. Jason Wyngarde raised a hand to stop him.

“What terrible manners you have, Azazel,” he smirked, “treating our lovely guest with such wanton disregard.”

On cue, Raven's natural blue form shimmered into view on other end of the sofa, and Dr. Wyngarde seemed to fade out as well to reveal the same man, only now his arm was wrapped around Raven's waist, the curved edge of a knife pressed against her throat.

Azazel glanced down to find that he, too, was now back to his original red-skinned self, two small horns protruding from his temples. He flicked his prehensile tail out and used it to snatch the knife from Jason's hand.

“There's no need for such theatrics now,” he said. “And speaking of which, your illusions aren't holding up so well, Wyngarde. The metal bender almost saw my tail.”

“But he didn't,” Jason retorted. “Are you aware of how difficult it is to keep this many illusions going at once?”

“Well you're jut going to have to try harder, then,” Emma interrupted, “because Azazel is going to be Charles Xavier's new nurse.”

“What?” Raven and Azazel exclaimed at the same time, and their eyes met for a brief moment before Azazel continued. “I am not some simpering schizophrenic's nurse. I am a member of the Inner Circle.”

“And as such you are being entrusted with keeping an eye on the metal bender and his friend. After Miss Darkholme's little reveal, I'm absolutely certain that Charles is a mutant as well. And a strong one, at that, to be able to prevent me from entering his mind.” She stood and shifted over to sit on the armrest of the couch. “Although I'm sure after I pick your brain, I'll have all the information I need.” Emma stroked Raven's hair and Raven swatted her hand away. Emma withdrew and smiled tersely at Azazel.

“You will do as you're told, and you,” she said, glancing at Jason, “will maintain the necessary illusions or suffer the consequences.”

Jason sighed dramatically. “As you wish.” With a wave of his hand Azazel was back in his “human” form, and he smirked before teleporting out of the room.

Jason turned back to Emma. “Do you require assistance with this one, milady?”

“No, thank you.” Emma's body shifted from flesh to diamond as she dragged an astonished Raven to her feet. “Come along, sugar. I've got big plans for you.”

~~~

Charles tried to be patient. Really, he did. But as morning turned into afternoon without any sign of Erik or Raven, he began to worry. His anxiety increased with every passing minute, and Charles found himself glancing at the door every time there was even the slightest hint of movement in the hallway.

 _He's not coming back._

“He said he'd be back, and he will be,” Charles said aloud. “He probably just got sidetracked, or he's working out with Alex.”

 _On a weekend? He spends those with you._

“He's bipolar, not OCD. He'll be back when he's ready.”

 _And what about Raven? Lunchtime has come and gone and she hasn't come back._

Charles lifted two fingers to his temple and sent a silent call to his sister. Normally he could feel her presence anywhere in the facility, but this time there was no response. He couldn't locate her with any of her other patients, or in the staff only areas, or even the upper floors, which were all offices and spare rooms. He stretched his reach out further, to the grounds, but without Raven's mind to guide him he became disoriented, and stumbled ungracefully back into his own mind. He sunk down into the bed, panicked and painfully aware of being alone.

 _It's just as you suspected. Erik left you because he couldn't take your madness, and now Raven's finally found some sense and done the same._

“No, it's not true!” Charles shook his head furiously. “Raven wouldn't leave me.”

 _But what about Erik?_ His mind whispered back.

“I don't...I don't know. Stop confusing me.”

The sound of the door opening brought Charles back to reality, and he frowned as a man he didn't recognize walked in with a tray of food.

“Where's Raven?”

“I will be taking over her duties,” the man replied, ignoring the question. “You may call me Azazel.”

 _Told you so._ “Is she coming back?”

“No.” Azazel set the tray down on the bed next to Charles. “Take your pills.”

Charles shrank back under the blankets. “And...and Erik?”

“The pills.” Azazel gestured to the tray. “Now.”

Charles reluctantly took the paper cup and poured the pills into his hand before swallowing them one by one.

“The water as well.”

Charles ignored him. “Where is Erik?”

“Dr. Frost has provided him with...other accommodations. Now if you'll excuse me.” Azazel gave a slight nod and slipped out the door, leaving Charles alone once again.

 _Did you hear that? He's been given 'other accommodations'. And now poor Charles is, as always, all alone with no one but his drug-addled brain to keep him company--_

“Would you shut up!” Charles snapped angrily. He shot one foot out from under the blankets, kicking the tray of food to the floor with a loud clatter. He stared at the overturned tray for a moment, watching gravy seep out and mingle with the growing puddle of water on the floor.

“I hate gravy.” He laughed suddenly, a nervous, high pitched giggle that cut off as abruptly as it started. Then, without another word, he picked gathered the blankets around him and tiptoed across the room to Erik's bed, careful to avoid the mess on the floor.

Charles slipped a hand under Erik's pillow and felt the now tangled paper clip between his fingers. He smiled as he remembered Erik's face just before he'd been caught with it floating in the air, twisting and shaping to his will. It had reminded him of the expression Erik wore when Charles read to him, one of contentment and maybe even a hint of peace.

He lay there unmoving for hours, the paper clip clutched tightly in his fist, and pretended he was asleep when Azazel came by later that evening. Charles smirked inwardly at Azazel's grumbling as he cleaned up the overturned tray and replaced it with a fresh one, before returning a few minutes later to mop up the floor. Soon after his departure Charles drifted into a dreamless sleep, leaving his dinner cold and untouched on the other bed.

~~~

For nearly three days Charles lay, silent and unmoving, curled snugly in Erik's bed. He ignored the food that Azazel brought him, stirring only to hold out his hand for the pills that he swallowed one by one before chasing them with a small sip of water. The Voice of Self-Loathing, as Charles had taken to calling it, had faded away after the first day, perhaps after realizing that Charles wasn't listening anymore. He was fully aware that, as always, he had managed to drive everyone he cared about away, and he didn't need some stupid voice to tell him so.

He retreated ever further inside of himself, spending more and more time inside his mental replica of his childhood home, and only Azazel's chiding, “take your pills” brought him back to reality. On the fourth day, however, something changed.

It was Tuesday, May the 2nd, Charles knew; Raven had always made sure he was aware of exactly what day it was. He wasn't sure Azazel would afford him the same courtesy. As with the last few days, Charles heard Azazel's footsteps, obnoxious against the concrete floor, as he came in and set yet another meal on the empty bed. Charles opened his eyes just enough to see the pills that the other man would inevitably drop into his palm, but they never came. He heard more footsteps, much quieter than Azazel's, shuffle across the floor and come to a stop in front of his bed.

Charles caught a glimpse of bare feet and a hand reaching out to him, before he closed his eyes again. If there were no pills this morning, there was no reason to stay awake.

“Has he eaten at all?” Charles heard the newcomer rasp, voice raw from disuse.

“ _Nyet_. Frost believes you can help him.”

“Hence my early release.”

“Indeed.”

The voices continued, but Charles tuned out what they were saying. Just as he was about to slip back into unconsciousness, Charles heard the familiar “take your pills” and he sleepily held out his hand in response.

“...wake up...roommate...help you.”

“Hmm?” Charles swallowed the pills and opened his eyes again to find Azazel's face inches from his own.

“I said, your roommate's back. Wake up and greet him properly.”

“Would you leave him alone?” There was that other voice again, stronger this time and somehow familiar. “He'll get up when he's ready.”

Azazel nodded and stood up. “Behave yourself. And eat something. Both of you.”

Charles was vaguely aware of the door opening and closing, and of someone who was not Azazel kneeling down at the side of the bed.

“Charles, it's me. It's Erik.”

“Erik's gone,” Charles mumbled. “Left.”

“I know, and I'm so sorry. Frost had me locked in solitary. I wasn't allowed to come and tell you.”

 _This changes nothing. You're still alone. You always will be alone._

“Shut up,” he muttered.

“I'm sorry?”

“Um.” Charles narrowed his eyes and looked up at Erik. “You came back.”

“Of course I did,” he replied with a grin.

“Well it's too late now. Your bed's been filled.”

Erik chuckled softly. “Oh, I think there's plenty of room for two.”

~~~

“Why did Frost have you locked up?”

They were sitting in Erik's bed, Charles nestled between Erik's knees with the breakfast tray resting in his lap. Charles rolled the last pancake up like a burrito and dipped it in strawberry syrup before taking a bite.

“She decided I was too violent for the general population,” Erik replied, his tone full of contempt.

“I know that. But what happened?”

“What do you care? I was in her office, I got angry, and I was punished for it. End of story.”

“I just wanted to understand why you left me,” Charles said quietly.

Erik sighed. “I went to see Frost because Angel said...no, that's not right. I was in the cafeteria alone.” He frowned, trying to remember. “It's all a bit of a blur. Frost said I was hearing things, and there was another doctor there.”

Charles set the tray on the floor and turned to face him. “What did Angel tell you?”

“I didn't see Angel,” Erik insisted. “I was alone. I was late for breakfast and I ate alone until Angel came and—ah!” A sharp icy pain sliced through his mind and he doubled over, clutching the side of his head.

“Erik!”

“I'm fine.” he sat up slowly. “What were we talking about?”

“There's something wrong with you.”

“There are a lot of things wrong with me. I thought we'd established that already.”

“No, I mean, Frost's done something to you, and you can't see it. Would you mind if I...” Charles raised his fingers to his temple and wiggled them suggestively.

“Are you sure you can handle going into my head right now?” Erik asked, concern flickering across his face. “You were pretty out of it when I came in earlier.”

“This is more important.”

“If you insist.”

That was all the invitation Charles needed, and without another word he dove into Erik's mind, only to crash into a wall of sheer ice blocking his way.

Erik winced at the sudden impact. “I don't think that's supposed to happen.”

“Just relax.”

They were both standing before the wall now, and Charles experimentally placed his hand flat against it before tapping gently with two fingers. When nothing happened, he drew back and slammed his fist into the wall. The ice cracked where he hit it and then quickly reformed before his eyes.

“You have to break it down.”

Erik stared at him incredulously. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

“This is your mind. Figure it out,” Charles said, turning to face him.

“That's just lovely.”

“Whatever happened last week, Frost hid it back there. Here.” A sledgehammer materialized in Charles' hands. “Use this.”

“How did you do that?”

“You just have to want it.”

Erik ignored the sledgehammer and instead a huge length of metal chain appeared and gravitated towards him, each link as large as Charles' fist. He thrust a hand out and the chain followed his direction, bursting through the ice with a loud crash. It whipped back to Erik's side and he shot Charles a triumphant grin.

Charles nodded at the wall, which was already almost completely reformed. “Not quite, my friend.”

A shadow passed across Erik's face and he lashed out again, narrowly missing Charles with the chain in his rage.

“Get. Out. Of my. HEAD!” Each word was punctuated by the chain crashing against the ice, blasting it to pieces faster than it could reform. He kept up the assault long after it had been reduced to rubble, until he felt Charles' hand on his shoulder as he stood on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “That's enough, Erik.”

Erik's body sagged and the chain hovered loosely in the air for a moment before dropping to the ground. Charles slipped his hand into Erik's and together they stepped carefully over the rubble and into the Centre's cafeteria.

They watched as a ghost of Erik sat down to eat his lunch, only to be interrupted by Angel, and Charles' grip tightened on his Erik's hand as she relayed the morning's gossip. The scene shifted and they were outside Frost's office, listening to Raven's shrieks of pain only to find that she was not in the room at all, and Erik pulled Charles close as they watched Frost condemn him to solitary confinement.

“I told you I wouldn't leave you,” he murmured.

Charles buried his face in Erik's chest as Azazel locked the memory of the latter into a cell, the screams of his sister still echoing in his ears.

“I can't—I have to--” He wrenched himself painfully back into his own body and Erik came back to his senses just in time to catch him as he was about to topple over the side of the bed.

“I tried to tell you,” Erik said softly. He carefully gathered Charles into his lap and rearranged the blankets around them.

“I had to know. I had to...” His head shot up suddenly and he pulled out of Erik's grasp, nearly falling right off the bed again. “Raven! I need to find her, need to help her--”

“Not like this you don't. Come here.”

Charles fought weakly against him, but soon gave up, defeated.

“I am completely useless, aren't I?” he whispered.

Erik glanced at him in surprise. “How can you say that?”

“All I do is sleep and dream and take up space in people's lives. I can't even save my own sister.”

“Charles, look at me. Look at me!”

Charles reluctantly did as he was told, lifting his head to meet Erik's eyes.

“You've showed me so much, about you, about myself, about everything. I honestly don't think I could tolerate this place if you weren't here.”

“But I--”

“You are probably the smartest, most compassionate and resilient person I have ever met. The faith you have in others, especially me, is quite frankly ridiculous (and I mean that as a compliment), and how you manage to take care of me and my nightmares when your own mind is so--”

“Broken? Twisted and damaged beyond repair?” Charles offered.

“Well. My point is, you never cease to amaze me with your strength and your desire to help others, even when it hurts you to do so. And don't even try telling me how selfish you are, I don't want to hear it. You make me want” _\--to pretend to be--_ “to be a better man.” _Close enough._

Charles fell silent, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Now get some rest,” Erik ordered. “We'll figure something out for Raven tonight when you're feeling better.”

Charles mumbled something unintelligible in response before wrapping his arms possessively around Erik's waist and resting his head against his chest.

“I'm right here,” Erik murmured. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, and Tuesday? Completely by accident. I came up with some arbitrary dates in Chapter 1 and then figured out how exactly the time had elapsed, and this is what I got. It's a funny world we live in :P


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charles finally leaves his room, and bad things happen to good people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to say when the next chapter will be done because I can't seem to meet my own deadlines. Updates will be faster now that I'm back in school and using lecture time to write though XD  
> All my love and thanks to everyone who is still reading and being so patient while I take forever to update - I hope this was worth waiting for! ^__^

“No. No. And did I mention no? It's not happening.” Charles paced the space between the two beds, unwilling to meet Erik's eyes.

“Charles, this self-made prison bit is getting tiresome. You have to leave this room sometime, so why not now?”

“It's too much. Too many people.”

“But you know them all already,” Erik insisted. “You said yourself, you hear them all the time.”

“That's different.”

“Different how?”

Charles stopped pacing as he felt Erik's hands on his shoulders.

“You need to get over this fear of yours if we're going to help Raven,” he said softly.

“I'm not afraid!” Charles retorted.

“Then come with me.”

“No.”

“Come with me,” Erik repeated.

“I can't.” but there was no conviction behind his words, and Erik remained silent, waiting.

After what seemed like an eternity, Charles sighed heavily and looked up at his friend.

“Alright then.”

Erik brightened immediately, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Really?”

“Yes really. Now let's go before I change my mind.”

Erik crossed the room and opened the door. “After you.”

Charles' breath caught at the sight of the open door, but he resisted the urge to dive back under the covers for the remainder of the evening. He thought of Raven, taken by Frost for who knew what purpose, and how useless he'd been to stop it.

 _And you'll always be useless, forever dependent on everyone else to take care of you while you sit in your cell and watch the world crumble._

“Not anymore,” Charles said aloud, and with renewed determination he strode right past Erik and stepped out into the hallway. The lighting was brighter than in their little room, and he squinted as Erik came to stand beside him, closing the door behind them both. Charles barely noticed, his gaze flitting from the various numbers on the other doors to the innocuous stains on the laminate floor, and finally to the reception area that was just barely visible from where they were standing.

Erik followed his gaze down the hallway and glanced back at Charles. “The exit's just down there. We could go outside.”

Charles shuddered. “I think this is quite far enough. Let's just get it over with.”

Erik chuckled as he took Charles' hand and led him in the opposite direction of the foyer. “Maybe next time, then.”

They passed the cafeteria and Charles paused in the open doorway, observing the dinner line with hesitant curiosity. Erik's usual table was empty; Alex and the others had probably already come and gone.

“We can go in if you like.”

Charles jumped at the sound of Erik's voice and shook his head vigorously.

“I'd rather not.”

Erik simply nodded and they continued on their way. As they neared the rec room, sounds of laughter echoed down the hall, and Charles tightened his grip on Erik's hand.

“Just relax,” Erik spoke soothingly. “I bet there won't even be that many people.”

They rounded the corner, Charles clinging desperately to his arm, and stopped in front of a set of unassuming double doors.

“Are you ready for this?” Erik asked.

“Let's find out.”

They very nearly managed to slip into the room unnoticed – Alex and Darwin were completely absorbed in the pinball machine in the far corner, while Sean was curled up in a nearby chair with a book that he occasionally peeked over the edges of to glance at Alex. Angel, Marie, and Kitty were seated at the round Formica table near the window, apparently using their prescriptions as poker chips.

“I'll see your two sleeping pills and raise you three Zoloft,” Angel was saying.

“What did you get the Zoloft for?” Kitty asked, tossing three more pills into the centre of the table. “Three lorazepam. I call.”

“Apparently since I starve myself I'm supposed to be depressed or something. Full house.”

Charles stared at them, eyes wide, until Erik tugged on his arm and led him over to a ragged white couch.

“I guess this is what Frost does with her cast-offs,” Erik said as they sat down.

Alex and Angel both glanced over as he spoke, while Charles did his best to blend in with the worn leather arm of the couch.

“Erik, hey! Long time no see!” Alex nodded at him before turning back to the pinball machine, oblivious to Charles' presence.

“Yeah Erik, where've you been?” Angel promptly put down her cards and skipped over to sit on the armrest beside Erik. “I haven't...oh.” She stared, open-mouthed, at Charles, who studiously avoided her gaze, bringing his knees up to his chest as he slid closer to Erik.

“Jesus, no one's seen you in, what, four years,” she breathed. “The newer patients think you're just a story we tell to try and scare them.”

Everyone turned to look at them and Erik glared right back as he wrapped a protective arm around Charles.

“A simple 'hello' would do, Angel,” he growled.

Angel blanched and slid off the armrest. “Right. Sorry.” She turned to Charles with a smile. “I'm Angel. It's, um, nice to meet you. Properly, I mean.”

Charles shifted uncomfortably, but returned her smile with one of his own.

“Charles Xavier,” he said finally, and everyone, including Erik, seemed to relax.

“I know,” Angel replied. “You two cats want to join our poker game? We were just about to start another round.”

 _I'd rather not gamble away my medication, thank you._

Erik barked out a laugh and Charles shot him a look of surprise. “You heard that?”

“Heard what?” Angel frowned.

“Nothing,” Erik interrupted. “I think we'll pass this time, Angel.”

“Suit yourselves.” She flounced back over to the table and sat down. “Where were we?”

“Marie was just about to clean us all out again,” Kitty replied.

Marie shrugged. “I learned from the best.”

“She's been taking lessons from a certain sexy Cajun orderly,” Angel clarified with a smirk. Marie turned beet red at this, much to Angel and Kitty's amusement.

Alex, meanwhile, seemed to have tired of pinball and was now leaning over Sean's shoulder.

“Whatcha reading?”

Sean closed the book and tossed it onto the side table. _Nothing, now_ , he thought.

 _You aren't missing much, believe me. Oh and in case you were wondering, he dies at the end._

Sean shot a look at Charles, who seemed to be deep in conversation with Erik. This was nothing new, but it was unsettling to have it happen while they were in the same room.

 _No he doesn't_ , Sean replied. _He's supposed to get married in the next book.  
Oh no, you have to read between the lines. Right after he rips off Victoria's head, a gang of real vampires arrives and slaughters the survivors. Except for Jasper, because he's pretty and Southern and even if he does sparkle, Lestat's taken a liking to him that Marius painfully describes as “unorthodox and wholly bizarre.”_

Sean laughed aloud, catching Alex off guard.

“What's so funny?” he asked.

Sean just shook his head, stealing glances at Charles from the corner of his eye. Charles, for his part, gave Sean a knowing look before turning his attention back to Erik.

“I can't believe I let you talk me into this,” Charles murmured, watching as Erik set the decrepit chess board up between them on the couch. “I can hear them all, buzzing in my head. They want to know how you managed it.”

“Well, let them wonder,” Erik replied. “Your move.”

Charles obediently moved his first pawn out, just as Alex came over and sat cross-legged in front of the couch.

“You guys are such dorks. Who even plays chess anymore?” he joked.

“Alex, stop being such a troll,” Darwin called from the pinball machine, still intent on beating his friend's score.

“I do what I want. Besides, Erik knows I'm just playing around. Right?”

“Sure.” Erik frowned at the board, trying to remember what he was doing.

Alex shifted up onto the couch next to Erik, only half on the cushion. “Here, move that one.” He picked up a pawn and moved it forward two spaces.

“I thought chess was for dorks,” Erik smirked, pushing him off the edge of the couch. “Get off.”

He turned back to the board and found that Charles had already moved again.

“I didn't go my turn yet.”

“Yes you did.” Charles blinked owlishly at him. “You moved your pawn.”

“Yeah, Erik,” Alex chimed in. “You moved your pawn.”

“You're both incorrigible.” Erik moved another pawn out before meeting Charles' gaze. _Look at you, he thought. Out of your room and making friends all in one evening._

 _Indeed. If Raven could see me now_. Charles frowned. _No one seems to know anything past her disappearance._

 _Why don't we just ask?_ “Hey, Angel.”

“Hmm?” Angel barely glanced up from the cards in her hand.

 _What are you doing?_ Charles glanced around nervously.

“The nurse that disappeared. What happened to her?” Erik asked.

“How should I know? No one's seen her in days,” Angel responded.

“What about Frost? What's she been up to?”

“Ororo said that Dr. Frost was having a guest up in the greenhouse tonight. Maybe our fearless leader has a secret boyfriend,” she smirked.

 _Or maybe she's got Raven,_ Charles thought.

Erik nodded and turned his attention back to the chess board. “Interesting.”

Angel raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care?”

“I have to keep myself entertained somehow. This place doesn't even have cable.” He moved a bishop out and nudged Charles. “Your move.”

~~~

 

“Tell me about Charles.”

“No.” Raven bit down on her lip, drawing fresh blood that mingled with the old produced by Frost's various implements.

“Tell me about Charles.”

A sharp, blinding pain shot through her mind and this time she couldn't prevent the cry from escaping her lips.

“I'm impressed, Miss Darkholme. That mental block of yours is very well fortified.” Frost cupped Raven's chin and forced her to meet her eyes. “Was it Charles that put it there for you?”

Raven gurgled in response and spat up more blood, which made Frost release her and step back.

“Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of suede?” she demanded, gesturing to the fresh stains on her boot. “No matter. I believe it's time for a different approach.” She released her grip on Raven's mind and walked swiftly out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Raven waited, listening for sound of a key turning in the lock, but it never came. She stood up and immediately sank back down into the cold metal chair, squeezing her eyes shut as the room spun around her. After a few moments, the wave of nausea passed, and she tried again, taking three steps to the door before collapsing. Just before she hit the floor, however, she felt a pair of arms encircling her waist and pulling her to her feet. She allowed Azazel to set her down in the chair again without a fight, and narrowed her eyes as he produced a first aid kit and began to clean the blood drying on her face and neck.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Dr. Frost wants you looking presentable for dinner,” Azazel replied, flicking his tail out to snatch a needle and thread from the kit. “Lift your shirt.”

Raven shifted into her natural form, the fabric mutating into deep blue scales. “You know what I mean.”

Azazel ignored her comment and carefully disinfected the gaping wound just below her diaphragm before inserting the needle into her skin. “You are beautiful like this,” he murmured.

“Tell that to the rest of the world.”

Azazel glanced up at her, yellow eyes meeting her own. “Soon, people like us won't have to hide.”

“I hate to break it to you, but my natural blue skin and your frankly demonic appearance are never going to be accepted in society. Why do you think I've spent all this time in hiding?”

“Dr. Frost is only trying to make things better for our kind.”

“Because kidnapping and torturing 'our kind' is clearly just her way of showing how much she cares, right?” Raven retorted.

“If you were more willing to cooperate--”

“If I was more willing to cooperate, it would be Charles in this chair instead of me, and I can't let that happen. Not after everything we've been through together.”

Azazel clipped the excess thread and applied a square of gauze over the now sealed wound. “You've been with him a long time then?”

“Wouldn't you like to know.” Raven glared at him. “What is this, the good cop, bad cop routine?”

“Just curious.” He stood and snapped the first aid kit shut. “Will you be...changing for dinner?”

“Why should I? You're the one who said we shouldn't have to hide.”

Azazel smiled. “You're learning.”

~~~

The greenhouse was enclosed within a huge glass dome on the roof of the facility. It was strange, Raven thought, that she'd never noticed the structure from the outside, but all the same she knew it had always been there. The sun was just beginning to set, and a soft orange-pink glow lit the way as Azazel led her through lush foliage and into a garden full of rare flowers and plants that Raven had never seen before. Frost was already seated at a round white wicker patio table, bundled in a fur-lined shawl that seemed out of place in such a humid environment. Despite her curiosity, Raven said nothing, perfectly complacent as Azazel seated her across from Frost and, with a slight bow, disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

“Please. Eat.” Frost motioned to the plate before her, piled high with mixed greens and various colourful vegetables. “It's all home-grown.”

In response, Raven pushed the plate away and fixed her gaze on a tree directly behind Frost's head.

“This is your one and only chance to do this the civilized way, honey.”

 _Oh, so now you want to be civil?_ Raven smirked. _The time for pleasantries is long past.  
Alright then._ She started at the sound of Frost's voice in her mind. _Let's not waste any more time._

“She's all yours, Tom.”

There was a dark laugh from somewhere in the surrounding greenery and a pair of vines lashed out and dragged Raven into the trees. Her screams were cut off as a third vine entered her mouth, just short of activating her gag reflex. In a matter of seconds she was completely engulfed, her eyes and mouth the only features visible through the writhing mass of vines.

“Why don't you tell old Black Tom about this Xavier fellow?” a thick Irish accent whispered in her ear. The vine in her mouth retracted and she choked on the bile threatening to rise in her throat.

“Where the hell are you?” she rasped.

“The plants, love. I'm them and they are me,” the voice replied. “Quid pro quo, then. I answered your question, you answer mine.”

Raven shook her head slightly. “Not a chance.”

The vines tightened around her, and she bit back a cry as she felt three of her ribs crack under the pressure.

“How will you protect your precious Charles when you're dead, hmm?”

 _He's got Erik now_ , she thought distantly. _If this is the most I can do for him then so be it_.

From far away, she heard Frost say, “Storm.”

Another voice, this time female, protested, “I don't want to hurt anyone.”

“You think you have a choice in the matter? Get over there. Now,” Frost ordered.

A young African woman with shocking white hair appeared in Raven's line of vision, and she recognized her as Ororo Munroe, Marie's roommate.

“I'm sorry,” Ororo murmured.

Raven opened her mouth to respond, but instead gritted her teeth as the temperature dropped drastically and freezing winds whipped through the room. Suddenly it dawned on her why Frost had dressed so warmly, and she would have laughed had her teeth not been chattering so badly. The vines slipped off her body, retreating from the bitter cold, and Raven curled into a ball on the now snow-covered grass. She was vaguely aware of Frost approaching her and kneeling beside her, but she kept her eyes tightly shut against the cold.

“I don't need to do this, you know,” Frost murmured. “I could take Charles anytime I wanted. This,” she continued, “this I do for fun.”

“Lies,” Raven shot back. “Or you would have already.”

“You're going to die here, do you understand?”

“Then k-k-kill me.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.” Raven cracked one eye open just long enough to catch Frost rising to her feet and placing a hand on Ororo's shoulder. “Make sure she doesn't wake up. And by the way,” Frost added, addressing Raven once again, “if you were really as strong as you think you are, you would have shifted into something warmer by now.”

As Frost exited the room, Raven felt the icy grip on her mind disappear as well. Just before she slipped into unconsciousness, she sent out one fleeting thought, uncertain if it would even be received at this point: _Goodbye, Charles_.

~~~

He almost missed it grazing the edges of his mind: a heartfelt _goodbye Charles_ coupled with weak resignation and Raven's distinct mental signature. Charles closed his eyes and reached out, searching desperately for a thread to cling to, but as soon as he latched on a sharp pain and a sensation of sheer cold racked his body. The next thing he was aware of was Erik's arms around him and the fact that they were now on the floor next to the sofa. He barely heard Erik's protests as he scrambled out of his lap and flew out the door, letting Raven's semiconscious apologies act as his guide.

“Charles!” Erik bolted after him and nearly tripped over Alex, who took the opportunity to stop him before he reached the open door.

“Is he going to be alright? Should I call someone?”

“No, it's fine. He's just, uh...” Erik trailed off. “I have to go.”

Alex nodded, clearly unconvinced, but stepped aside for Erik to pass.

There was no sign of Charles in the hallway, or in the surrounding area. He ran back to their room, but it was empty as well. Erik took a deep breath and tried not to panic. Where could he possibly have gone?

 _This way_. Erik felt a harsh tug on his mind and allowed himself to be led in the opposite direction to the elevators. _Top floor_.

 _Frost's office? Did you find Raven?_

 _I can't--please--_ Charles cut off abruptly as Erik stepped into the elevator.

 _Bad reception?_ Erik asked lightly, but there was no response. He ignored the buttons and raised the elevator himself, reaching the top floor in record time.

This hallway too, was empty and eerily silent, but as Erik neared Frost's door, a familiar figure emerged from the office, dragging Charles unceremoniously behind him.

“Mr. Lehnsherr,” Dr. Wyngarde greeted him warmly and gestured to Charles. “Did you lose something, perchance?”

“Erik, tell him,” Charles wriggled free of Dr. Wyngarde's grasp and darted to Erik's side. “Tell him about the greenhouse.” _Fake it. Tell him I'm off my meds or something._

Erik forced a small smile and wrapped a protective arm around Charles. “You'll have to forgive my companion here. We were just downstairs in the rec room when Angel mentioned the wonderful work Ororo's been doing in the greenhouse, and he just got a little over-excited.”

“I see.” Dr. Wyngarde raised an eyebrow. “And this...greenhouse. It's meant to be in Dr. Frost's office?”

“I didn't know it was her office, I swear,” Charles broke in. “I got lost. Too many doors.”

“There, you see? It was just a mild misunderstanding,” Erik said.

“I should think so, especially since there is no greenhouse in this building,” Dr. Wyngarde replied with a smirk.

“But Ororo--”

“Ororo is a long-term sufferer of delusions and claustrophobia. It's only natural that she would create a fantasy where she might feel safe. Angel was probably just playing along to help her roommate save face among friends.”

“But I saw another set of stairs leading up past this floor on my way up,” Erik interjected. “Where does that lead?”

“Are you sure you saw what you saw?” Dr. Wyngarde gestured to the stairwell. Perhaps you should have another look.”

Erik kept Charles close to him as he moved to the door and entered the stairwell. There, where he had been certain there was another flight of stairs, was a slim metal railing overlooking the lower stairs.

“It was right here,” he muttered.

“Perhaps you too are mistaken,” Dr. Wyngarde replied smoothly. “First auditory and now visual hallucinations, Erik? Someone needs their prescription updated.”

The image of Erik's hands around Dr. Wyngarde's neck filled his mind and he took a step forward, rage already beginning to cloud his vision.

 _Erik. Calm your mind_. Charles' voice broke into his train of thought. _I know what this means to you but you can`t. Not now, anyway._

 _The railing's not real. There's no metal there._

Charles' eyes widened. “I think maybe we should go now.”

“He's a smart one, your friend. I would take his advice,” Dr. Wyngarde said, eyes locked on Erik.

“Fine.” Erik glared.

The doctor watched, satisfied, as the pair started down the stairs before disappearing, presumably back to his own office. The moment the door swung shut, Erik turned and started back up the stairs with Charles following close behind.

“It's time to find out what's really going on in this place.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik's past comes back to haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a ridiculously long time. I kept writing and re-writing, but now I know for sure where I'm taking this and how I want it to end, so updates will happen a little faster.   
> Hopefully this was worth the wait!

It was a bizarre experience, walking up a set of stairs that wasn't there, but with Erik's guidance they were able to follow the iron in the real railing up to the top floor. Halfway up the second flight, the steps materialized under their feet and Charles stumbled in surprise, catching Erik's wrist for support. Ignoring his friend's worried expression, Charles quickly found his footing, and within moments they reached the landing and entered the greenhouse. 

A light snowfall dusted the stone walkway and surrounding greenery, and Charles paused, reaching out to touch a cluster of nearby leaves. A slow smile played across his lips as his fingertips brushed the snow, causing it to fall lightly onto his slippers. 

“It's been a long time,” he said softly. “It's been far too long.” 

He turned back to Erik, fingers covered in already melting snow. “My last winter at home, Raven took me out sledding. She snuck me out of my room after lunch and we spent the whole afternoon going up and down the big hill behind the house. That is, until Raven let me push us down and I rammed us right into a tree!” Charles laughed, and Erik joined in too in spite of himself. “We were absolutely buried in snow, and when we finally dug ourselves out we were laughing so hard we had tears! Of course,” he finished, his expression darkening, “My step-father, Kurt, didn't think it was quite as funny when we returned well after dark, shivering and soaked to the bone.” 

Erik frowned, remembering the angry abusive man from Charles' nightmares. “Where was your mother?” 

“Oh, no doubt utterly intoxicated as always,” Charles replied offhandedly. “Come on, then. My sister must be here somewhere.” 

“Charles--” 

“What are you doing here?” A familiar figure stood in the walkway, blocking their path. 

“Ororo,” Erik greeted her with a slight nod. “Charles and I are...looking for someone.” 

“You can't be up here,” Ororo replied. 

“What do you mean, you know?” Erik demanded. 

Charles cocked his head to one side. “Raven was here. She was...she...” he trailed off and glared at Ororo, who cried out and collapsed to her knees. “Where is she?” 

Her hands flew to the sides of her head and she curled into herself, mumbling something incomprehensible. 

“I said, where is she?” Charles snarled. 

Erik stared at his friend. “Charles, you're hurting her!” 

“I don't care!” 

“Yes, you do!” He grabbed Charles by the shoulders and shook him, a bit harder than intended. “Look at her. Really, look. You're scaring her, just like Frost probably scared Raven. Just like...” he took a deep breath. “Just like Kurt scared you.” 

Charles' breath caught in his throat as he glanced back at Ororo, who was cowering just a few feet away in the snow, before meeting Erik's eyes. 

“I can't, I didn't--” he cut off, burying his face in Erik's chest. 

“I know.” Erik wrapped his arms around the smaller man and stroked his hair. “What happened to us?” he whispered. “I'm supposed to be the violent one with anger issues, remember?” 

Charles laughed bitterly into his chest. “Maybe you're rubbing off on me.” 

“Oh, I hope not,” he replied, then, “where do you think you're going?” 

Ororo froze, teetering unsteadily on her feet, and pointed a shaking finger at Charles. “Keep him out of my head.” 

Erik grinned, all teeth and no humor. “Unless you tell us where Raven is, I can't guarantee anything at this point.” 

“I don't know where she is!” 

“Charles?” 

“She's lying.” Charles broke away from Erik and raised two fingers to his left temple. “I know everything about you, Ororo. I've shared your nightmares for years, and I think it's about time I returned the favour.” 

“I didn't mean to!” Ororo blurted out. “Dr. Frost made me! I was just following orders, I didn't want to kill her!” 

Charles paled at her last words, and this time it was Erik who reacted and yanked her forward, nails digging into her wrists and drawing blood. 

“I've been at the mercy of those 'just following orders',” he growled. “Never again.” 

“You killed her,” Charles asked tonelessly, more a statement than a question. 

“What? No, I'm not a murderer! As soon as Dr. Frost left, I dialed down the storm just enough to save her and still keep Black Tom away,” Ororo explained. “Then Azazel took her just after she lost consciousness.” 

“Who's Black Tom?” Erik demanded. 

“He's in the plants. He controls them, like I control the weather, except he's part of them.” 

“Where is he now?” 

“He's here, but he's still sleeping because of the snow.” 

“So Raven's alive?” Charles cut in.

“Yes, but I don't know where. This place is as much as I get to see.” She gestured at the plants around them. “And frankly, I'd like to keep it that way.” 

“How many of us are there?” Erik asked. “With...abilities.” 

Ororo glanced over at Charles. “You didn't tell him?” 

Charles shrugged. “I tried, but my thoughts aren't always the most coherent.” 

“You're doing fine right now.” 

“That's because I have Erik,” Charles replied, and then blushed. “I did try, you know. You even saw them when you were in my mind.” 

“I'm not following.” 

“Erik, we're all mutants. The three of us, Sean, Alex, Angel, Marie...everyone.” 

Erik stared at him. “So when you said I wasn't alone...” 

“I meant it,” Charles finished with a small smile. 

“Well this is all very touching,” a disembodied Irish lilt interrupted from somewhere in the trees, “but I must say I'm rather offended, Stormy.” A tangle of vines crawled across the pathway and curled around Ororo's ankles. “Here you are, having a party with Frost's favourite pets, and I didn't even warrant an invitation.” 

“Get out of here,” Ororo whispered.

“We can't just leave you!” Erik took a step towards her, but she held up a hand. 

“He won't hurt me, not really. Just go.” 

“What was it that Frost said? 'minimum force if necessary', wasn't it?” Black Tom laughed. “I think it's time to teach our little rat here a lesson.” 

“Get away from her!” Erik reached out for something metal in the room but there was nothing, and it was too late. He struggled against the vines that held him in place without success. From far off he heard Charles calling his name, but the tree branches were arcing downward and crushing his ribs, and any response he might have given died on his lips. 

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees and Erik shivered, what little breath he had left crystallizing as he exhaled. A thin sheet of ice spread over the branches, and they shook as though irritated by the disturbance. He strained against them, testing them, and they tightened in response. 

“You're not going any—” the voice cut off abruptly and the branches loosened, vines falling limply to Erik's feet. Erik dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. 

_Ororo and I have him cornered, but the ice can only keep him for so long._

_How did you--_

_I followed his consciousness and forced him into one of the trees in the far corner,_ Charles explained. _We need something stronger to keep him there, though._

 _I've got an idea._ Erik lurched to his feet and stretched out his hand, feeling for the metal railings in the stairwell just a few feet away. He heard a loud crash as the glass panes in the door broke, and in mere moments the iron was within his reach. It looped and coiled around his right arm like a brace, hovering just above the skin, as he followed Charles' thoughts to a large oak tree on the other side of the room. 

“Seems a bit much for a greenhouse, don't you think?” Erik nodded at the tree. 

“I think it's like his power source,” Ororo said. She glanced at the metal encircling his arm. “That's not going to hold him.” 

“Yes it will.” He glanced at Charles, who was shivering violently against the cold, his empty gaze transfixed in the general direction of the oak tree. _Still alright in there?_

_N-n-n-not sure. Just finish it._

Erik nodded and made a sweeping gesture. The metal responded by flattening into a thin sheet that began to cover the tree from the bottom up. As it reached its end, near the midsection of the tree, he reached out with his free hand and ripped more of the railing from the stairwell, stretching and shaping it before it found its way to him. 

It took less than a minute for Erik to complete his task, and when he was finished the oak tree was entirely encased in its iron shell. He took a step back, satisfied, and was just in time to catch Charles as his feet gave way beneath him. 

“He's afraid, he's so afraid of the cold dark metal box,” Charles whispered. “He can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't--” He went stiff in Erik's arms for a split second before relaxing and focusing back on the tree. “He's gone to sleep. Possibly for good. Can we go now? This is all a bit unnerving.” 

“Charles is right, you need to go,” Ororo cut in. “Dr. Frost sees everything, and she's probably on her—Goddess!” she stumbled backwards a couple of steps as a puff of black smoke heralded Azazel's arrival. “I told you to stop doing that, Az!” 

Azazel shrugged noncommittally and turned to Erik, who had helped Charles to his feet and was now staring at Azazel. 

“I knew I saw a tail,” Erik said with a smirk. Then, to Charles, “When you said everyone, you meant it.” 

“There's no time for that now,” Azazel said sharply, holding out a hand. “Come. Raven is waiting.” 

“Why should we trust you?” Erik asked.

“Because right now, I'm your only option.” He nodded at Charles. “See for yourself.” 

Charles complied, slipping into Azazel's mind and browsing through his memories as easily as if they were his own. 

“You...saved her. Why?” 

Azazel smiled grimly. “I do not believe in murdering our kind for Dr. Frost's amusement.” 

“No, it's more than that,” Charles pressed. 

“It does not matter. Quickly now.” He beckoned again, and with Charles' assent Erik took Azazel's hand and the three disappeared, traces of black smoke curling around Ororo's feet in the greenhouse. 

~~~

Raven couldn't imagine ever feeling warm again. Despite the fireplace crackling with life beside her and the multiple layers of blankets that Azazel had wrapped her in, her body was plagued by a chill that seemed to have burrowed deep beneath the surface of her skin. She'd been so close to warmth only a few minutes ago, snug in Azazel's arms as he teleported her to this small, round room and held her even as her body trembled violently with an unshakable cold. She found herself wishing he was here again, only because I'm so damn cold, she told herself, not for any other reason. 

Raven hazarded a glance around the little room from her cocoon of blankets. It couldn't be more than thirty square feet, and there was no furniture or decoration to speak of. Aside from Raven and the fireplace, the only other object in the room was a dark grey and silver helmet encased in glass and displayed on a pedestal a few feet from where Raven sat. Beside it lay a single white rose, no more than a day old and already beginning to wilt. She wondered if it was Frost who left it there, and made a mental note to ask Azazel about it when he came back. 

As if on cue, Azazel reappeared before the fireplace, let go of his companions, and with a slight nod disappeared again. Charles was on his sister in an instant, throwing his arms around Raven's neck and nearly bowling her over. 

“Are you alright?” they exclaimed in unison. Charles sat back on his heels as Erik joined them on the floor. “We've been looking all over for you! What happened?” 

Raven sighed. “It's a long story. And I'm fine. Cold, but alive.” 

“Can I just...” He raised two fingers to his temple, questioning. 

Raven nodded. “Go ahead. And bring Erik in too.” 

Erik frowned. “Another head trip?” 

“Yes. Now give me your hand.” 

Erik obliged without a fuss, slipping his hand back into Charles' smaller one. “You know if you keep using your telepathy like this you'll eventually just drop from exhaustion.” 

Charles closed his eyes, ignoring Erik's last comment, and all three of them were thrown headfirst into a melting pot of memories. 

Slowly but surely a timeline began to emerge from their collective experiences, beginning with Raven's capture and weaving hers and Erik's confinement into a single narrative as Charles fell apart at the seams. Raven couldn't resist interrupting when she saw Charles playing chess in the rec room, his and Erik's conversation playing out side by side with hers and Azazel's. 

_Look at you. Never thought I'd see the day._ And to Erik, _how did you do it?_

 _I didn't,_ came Erik's reply. _You did._

The images faded and their memories converged on the greenhouse, laying out Raven's dinner with Frost and the events with Ororo and Black Tom before concluding at the present.

Charles broke contact and leaned against Erik for support. “I think you were right about the exhaustion part, my friend.” 

When he didn't receive a reply, Charles glanced up to discover that Erik was distracted by the helmet Raven had noticed a few minutes ago. 

“What. Is that. Doing here,” he bit out, angry recognition flashing in his eyes. 

“How should I know? Azazel just brought me here because he said telepaths like Frost wouldn't be able to see me,” Raven replied. 

“No, I suppose they wouldn't.” 

“Erik, what is it? What's wrong?” Charles' grip on Erik's hand tightened. “Why do I feel like I've seen that helmet before?” 

“Because I killed its owner.” 

“Oh. _Oh._ ” 

Raven shifted uncomfortably. “So what, Frost just happens to have a shrine to some guy you killed lying around?” 

“Sebastian Shaw wasn't just 'some guy',” Erik growled. “He killed my mother before my eyes and spent years torturing and experimenting on myself and a few other children to find out what made us tick. That he was a mutant himself never seemed to factor into the equation. As for that thing,” he continued, nodding to the helmet, “Shaw didn't trust anyone, not even his right hand, who was rumoured to be a powerful telepath. The helmet kept any unwanted interference out of his head.” 

“No one ever saw this telepath?” Charles asked. 

Erik shook his head. “Shaw kept me isolated from the others. He said I was his favourite.” His gaze landed on the white rose lying next to the case. “All this time I thought I was rid of him, but Frost just picked right up where he left off.” 

“Azazel said Frost collects mutants, or those suspected of being mutants, and brings them here under the pretense of helping the mentally ill,” Raven said. “Who's to say she isn't planning to use and abuse them just like Shaw did?” 

“And who's to say she hasn't already?” Charles added. “She's a strong telepath with an illusionist at her disposal. And this place has been around since well before Erik killed Shaw.” 

Erik tuned out most of their conversation, eyes focused on the helmet as he attempted to control his rage. _Not here, not again, not again--_

 _Erik!_ Charles crashed into his thoughts unceremoniously, startling Erik out of his anger. _I realize how upsetting this is, but I'd prefer if you didn't take your anger out on my hand._

Erik blinked and released Charles' throbbing fingers, which he flexed with a slight wince. Without thinking, Erik, gently took Charles' hand and pressed the knuckles to his lips. “Sorry.” 

Raven rolled her eyes. “So what, we just hide out, pretend I was killed and you don't know anything, and wait for an opportunity to off Frost as well?” 

“Why don't I save you the trouble?” Dr. Frost stood in the now open doorway, her diamond form shimmering and reflecting the light of the fireplace. Erik was on his feet in seconds and placed himself between Frost and Charles as she approached them and tossed a beaten and bloodied Azazel at his feet. 

“I'm sorry,” Azazel raised his head enough to meet Raven's eyes as she moved to his side. “She just reached in and took it.” 

“I know,” Raven whispered. “It's not your fault.” 

Dr. Frost took a step towards Erik, and he reached out for something, anything metal without success. “Now,” she said, “What was that I heard about you 'offing' me?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look I'm updating again, and it took me less than a month to do it! thank you again for all the wonderful comments, they encourage me to keep going ^_^   
> This story seems to have taken on a life of its own - every time I decide how things are going to happen, one of the characters jumps in and says, "Actually....NO." So just for the record, I'm just as surprised as you are about how all of this is turning out!

Charles stepped out from behind Erik and raised two fingers to his temple, concentrating. 

“You won't get anything from me while I'm like this, sugar.” But Frost eyed him warily, as though wondering if he was strong enough to pierce the diamond. 

_Erik. The pipes._

Of course, why hadn't he thought of that? The walls were full of metal, all he had to do was get through. There was a slight rumbling from behind Frost, but she didn't seem to take notice. 

“No more games, Frost,” Erik growled. The wall exploded behind her, and a mass of aluminum pipes and electrical wiring wrapped around her arms and legs like snakes, pinning her partially inside the ruined wall. Another pipe coiled tightly around her neck, effectively strangling her even as she struggled for air. Erik focused on her throat, a grim smile forming as the metal constricted and tiny fissures formed in Frost's diamond skin. 

“That's enough,” Charles murmured. 

Erik shook his head. “No.” 

“Erik, that's enough!” 

He glanced back at Charles for a split second, and that was all he needed. He released Frost, who fell to her knees and shifted back into her regular form as the metal retracted into the walls. 

“I should kill her right now.” 

'I'd rather you didn't,” Charles said. 

“Why not? Are you going to give me some speech on how to be the better man, Charles? After what she's done to you? To us?” 

“It's because of what she did to me that I'm asking you to stand down,” he replied calmly. “All those years, all the pain, the pills, the nightmares-- I'm ready to return the favour.” 

Erik stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “She's all yours.” 

“How very noble of you, Erik,” Frost spat. She'd managed to pull herself up into a sitting position, hands still braced on the floor for support. “Are you going to let him kill me like you did Sebastian?” _Do you remember how it felt, Erik? The exact moment that you knew you were going to kill him?_ She dove ruthlessly into his memories, dragging up image after image of the pain and suffering Shaw had inflicted on him, punctuated by Shaw's falsely companionable monologue. _We are going to be very good friends, Erik. Very good friends indeed..._

Erik cried out and doubled over, narrowly missing Azazel as he collapsed to the ground. 

“Erik!” Charles wheeled on Frost, his eyes flashing with rage. “You just made a huge mistake. No one touches his mind except me.” _Let's see what deep, dark secrets you're hiding, shall we?_

“No, stay out!” Frost tried to push him away but Charles was already inside, tearing down her meticulously constructed mental blocks and invading the deep recesses of her mind. 

_You can't get in my head, but there's nothing to stop me getting in yours. Let go of him._

_He deserves worse for what he did!_

_Fine._ He threw open doors more quickly than Frost could slam them shut, letting loose long buried memories and their accompanying emotions without giving her a chance to fully process them. The images swirled around her without rhyme or reason as Shaw introduced her to the mutants he was “training”, and moments later lay dead at her feet, blood trickling down his face and seeping into the snow. Those memories flowed disjointedly into a kidnapping scheme gone awry, and Charles barely caught the name Troy as the body of a young man was carted off into an alleyway. 

_Had enough? Or do I need to dig deeper?_

_Quid pro quo, honey. Your turn to share._ She pushed through her own memories and barely managed to sink her mental claws into his thoughts before he hauled her back into her own mind again. 

_Don't even bother. I'm stronger than I've ever been, and I suppose I have you to thank for that. You took my life, my sanity, and my freedom, attempted to murder my sister, and assisted in the torture of the only friend I've ever had. You've caused so much pain to so many people, and now I'm going to give it all back. All that suffering, all that misery, ALL AT ONCE._

“No...stop...NO!” Frost screamed and curled into the fetal position on the floor, eyes wide open as she wrapped her arms around herself. Charles ignored her cries as he poured every ounce of pain he'd experienced over the years into her mind, alongside the nightmares he'd acquired from Erik, Ororo, Sean, Marie, and every other patient in the building. Frost shuddered violently and dug her nails into her arms hard enough to draw blood, but she didn't seem to notice the physical pain. Eventually the tremors stopped, and she remained curled into a ball, her gaze unfocused and empty. Charles gingerly detached himself from her mind and shook himself. He felt lightheaded, but he expected that was from the boatload of memories he'd just released.

“Christ, Charles. What did you do to her?” He started at the sound of his sister's voice, and was slightly ashamed that he'd forgotten Raven was there. She was standing now, partially supporting Azazel's weight as she stared incredulously at him. 

“Exactly what she deserved.” Charles turned to Erik, who had brought his knees up to his chest and was muttering something unintelligible that sounded like German. He crouched down before him and ran his hand along Erik's cheek. 

“Look at me, Erik. That's it, focus on me. There you are.” He smiled as Erik blinked and covered Charles' hand with his own. 

“What happened to Frost?” 

“She's reliving every terrible thing that's ever happened to all the patients in this facility, at the same time. I suspect it's driving her utterly insane.” 

Erik dragged Charles into a tight embrace. “Good.” 

“We should go,” Raven interrupted. “Before someone comes looking for her.” 

Charles pulled Erik to his feet. “We can't just leave the others here. Not with people like Wyngarde still around to run this place.” 

“What are we supposed to do, Charles? Just keep battling them all like bosses in a video game and then free the rest of the patients, most of which don't have anywhere else to go?” 

“If that's what it takes,” Erik cut in. “I can't just walk away and let history repeat itself. Not when I—when we—can do something to stop it.” 

Azazel nodded. “Agreed. I will not leave our kind at the hands of Wyngarde and the others.” His yellow eyes bored into Raven's own as he spoke. “No more hiding. We stick together.” 

Raven sighed in defeat. “Fine. But can we please just get out of this room? She's starting to creep me out.” She gestured to Frost, who was still curled up on the floor. “There's something wrong with her eyes.” 

“There's something wrong with her everything,” Charles commented, earning half a smile from Erik. 

~~~

_Good morning, everyone. I know it's early, but I need you to listen to me very carefully. As I'm sure you're all aware, my name is Charles Xavier. I was admitted here four years ago, for the same reason that you were – I possess a mutation, a gift, that was misconstrued as illness by people that hated and feared what I am. I come to you now with a message: You are not diseased, deformed, or abominations, and above all else you are not alone. I repeat, you are NOT alone. So If you're tired of being locked away, of having to hide from who and what you are, my friends and I will be in the cafeteria in twenty minutes with answers to all of your questions. Please take this opportunity, not for me, but for yourselves. I can't speak for the rest of you, but I for one am done with being afraid._

“You can close your eyes for a bit, if you like,” Erik said. “It's been a long night.” 

“I'm fine,” Charles insisted, but all the same he found his eyelids getting heavy and and dropped his head to Erik's shoulder, their fingers firmly interlaced. Azazel had teleported them, one at a time, to the cafeteria, where the four of them were now seated at Erik's regular table. 

“You really think this will work?” Raven asked. 

“It'll have to,” Erik replied. “We don't have much time before the rest of the staff gets here.” 

“They'll come,” Charles murmured. “I can feel them, buzzing in my head. I've piqued their curiosity.” 

They passed the next ten minutes in silence, every now and then tossing hopeful glances at the doors. Erik found himself staring at the clock, watching the minutes tick by. Twelve minutes, now, since Charles had made his telepathic broadcast. At the 16 minute mark, the cafeteria doors opened, and Charles lifted his head just as Alex, Sean, and Angel joined them at the table. 

“I knew you'd come,” Charles said happily.

Alex shot him a grin. “I have no idea what's going on, but I want in.” He raised an eyebrow at Azazel and Raven's appearance. “Whoa. Awesome.” 

“Does this have to do with where you guys disappeared to last night?” Angel asked. She kept her eyes on the door as Kitty, Marie, another girl Erik didn't recognize shuffled into the room and sat at the next table over. 

“You were in my head,” Marie tentatively met Charles' eyes. “You've been in my head this whole time, haven't you?” 

Charles nodded. “It seemed like we both needed the company.” 

“...Thank you.” 

Charles' reply was interrupted as Darwin and Ororo entered and joined the girls' table, followed closely by the group that Alex had inelegantly dubbed the “schizoids” - Betsy, Jean, Monet, and a few others that even Charles wasn't familiar with. They sat a few tables over and chattered nervously amongst themselves, and Erik caught snatches of “yellow eyes”, “red skin”, and “you see them too, right?” 

“Are all these people...like us?” Alex asked. 

“Yes,” Charles confirmed. “We're missing a few people, though.” 

“Like who? This place is all locked doors and dead end hallways. There can't possibly be as many patients as they want us to think.” 

Erik frowned. “What do you mean, dead ends? I got lost in these halls my first week here.”

“It's Wyngarde's doing,” Azazel said. “He molds the architecture to suit his mood.” 

“Why am I not surprised.” Erik said. “I don't think anyone else is coming, Charles.” 

“I think you spoke too soon, my friend,” Charles replied. He nodded to the the two orderlies that had come in while they were talking, and Erik was mildly surprised when he noticed Remy, the Cajun that Marie apparently had a “thing” for, and Janos, silent as always. 

“Don't they work for Frost?” Erik asked in a low voice. 

“Most of the staff are here under duress,” Azazel said wryly. “We don't want to be here any more than you do.” 

“Fair enough.” but Erik still eyed them warily even as Charles gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. _Everyone's here now. Shall we begin?_

_I'm no good at public speaking._

_You'll be fine. Better than fine, in fact._

Erik stood and faced the group before him. Fourteen patients, two orderlies, and the four of them made an even twenty. The odds were already in their favour. Erik cleared his throat loudly, and the chattering around them stopped. Nineteen faces looked up at him expectantly, but there was only one that mattered to him. 

_I appreciate the thought, but there are more pressing matters at hand._

Erik cleared his throat. “You all know why you're here. You've been gifted with abilities that resulted in your being hated, feared, and shunned by society. But what you don't know is why you're here, in this place, specifically.” He tripped over the word “specifically” and glanced down at Charles, uncertainty clouding his thoughts. 

_Keep going. No one noticed._

“When I was ten years old, my mother was shot, point blank, before my eyes. The man who killed her did so to coerce me into revealing my recently activated abilities. When it seemed that pain and anger were the driving force behind my mutation, he spent the next four years exploiting that in the most horrific ways imaginable.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Long story short, I was able to escape, and, sixteen years later, I hunted him down and killed him.” 

“Jesus,” Alex muttered. 

“I haven't told anyone this before,” Erik admitted. “But you deserve to know, because its happening again right here in this facility.” 

Angel's voice was the first to break the silence that followed. “But we're not being tortured. And the doctors don't know about our powers. Do they?” 

“Dr. Frost knows all about you,” Charles said quietly. “She knows about everyone. It's why you're here, or haven't you been paying attention?” 

“Where is Dr. Frost, anyway? Why haven't they told her what's going on?” Angel demanded, pointing a finger at Janos and Remy. 

“Dr. Frost was a powerful telepath. And she was working with the man who tortured me,” Erik explained. “This place was under her management, and we believe she was trying to gather mutants for their cause. She's been trying to crack Charles for years, although she was a bit more subtle in her tactics than her late partner.” 

“Why are you saying 'was'? Is she dead now too?” Alex interrupted. 

“I'm using the past tense because Charles here cracked her first,” Erik answered, a hint of pride sneaking into his voice. “She's off in a cell of her own, no doubt catatonic and drooling on her straitjacket.” 

“So what, we're just supposed to take your word that there's some big conspiracy going on behind our backs?” Kitty stood up and glared at him. “The whole thing sounds ridiculous.” 

Ororo stood as well and faced her. “What they say is true,” she said clearly. “Dr. Frost forced me to do some things that I'm not proud of, not the least of which was an attempted murder. If Charles managed to take her down, I say good riddance.” 

“Who'd she make you kill?” Angel asked, then, noticing Erik's glare, “What? I'm curious!”

“She was supposed to kill me.” Raven rose to her feet, and Azazel followed. “Azazel here got me out.” 

“Well I guess we know what your mutations are,” Angel grinned, eyes roving over their blue and red forms, respectively. 

Azazel smirked and teleported to the other end of the room, paused for a split second, and teleported back again. “Not quite.” 

“That is awesome!” Alex exclaimed. “I wish I could do that!” 

“What can you do?” Azazel asked.

“Nothing I can do inside. It's a bit...flammable.” 

Charles laughed. “Just a little bit.” 

“You know?” Alex frowned. “Of course you do, you're psychic, right?” 

“Yes, I know,” Charles agreed. “Just as I know Kitty walks through walls, Angel's got wings, and Ororo controls the weather. Although the last one is more from experience.” 

“You can fly?” Raven stared wide-eyed at Angel. 

“Yeah. And, um, I can spit flaming balls of acid,” Angel admitted. “Looks like you're not the only one with a flammable talent, Alex.” As she spoke she stripped off her t-shirt to reveal a low-back white tank top underneath to reveal what looked like a series of intricate tattoos across her back and shoulders. The tattoos shimmered and sprouted from her back to form iridescent wings, which seemed to shiver before lifting her out of her seat. “Man, this feels good! I haven't been able to use them in months!” 

“Fantastic,” Erik said, gazing at her wings in admiration. 

Charles elbowed him gently between his ribs. _Don't be getting distracted now. We only have a couple of hours until the rest of the staff gets here._

_Is that a hint of jealousy, Charles?_

_What could I possibly have to be jealous of?_

“Alright people, as much as I would love to see all of your abilities, we're running short on time,” Erik announced. “Dr. Wyngarde and the rest will be in at 8 am, which gives us just over two hours.” 

“For what?” Angel had settled back into her seat, her wings still fully extended behind her. 

“Frost is gone, but Wyngarde is still around, and from what we've seen he'll just pick up right where she left off. We need to stop him before...” Erik paused, choosing his words carefully. “before history repeats itself.” 

“You want us to fight?” Kitty asked. She was still on her feet and glaring at him. 

“I want you to make a choice. Either stay here and fight with us, or get out while you still can. It's as simple as that.” 

No one spoke as Erik surveyed the group, and even Kitty seemed to be at a loss for words. After what seemed like an eternity, Charles placed his hand on Erik's arm and pulled himself unsteadily to his feet. 

“The fact is, Erik and I can't do this alone, but we're not going to force you to stay.” Charles' tone was soft, but commanding as he spoke. “This isn't about playing hero, or feeling like a coward for wanting to stay out of this mess. It's about doing what's right for you. But either way, none of us can stay here anymore. So make your choice, and do it quickly because time is something we don't have.” 

“Well,” Alex stood and clapped a hand on Erik's shoulder. “I guess we better get a move on, then. You coming, Angel?” 

Angel grinned at them. “Wouldn't miss it for the world.” 

One by one, Darwin, Sean, and Ororo came to stand with them, and Erik couldn't help but smile. “You're sure? There's no changing your mind after this.” 

“We know,” Ororo replied simply. 

There was a pause as Kitty and Marie whispered amongst themselves, and then they both joined the newly formed group. “We're in,” Kitty said. “If you answer one question for me.” 

“And that would be?” 

“What's your mutant power?” 

Erik fished in his pocket for his nearly forgotten paper clip and held it out to her. It levitated just above his palm as he willed it to uncoil and reshape itself. When he was finished, he dropped his hand and floated it over to her. “Not that impressive, I know, but there isn't much metal to work with here.” The miniature metal cat hovered just a few inches before Kitty's face. “Go ahead. Take it.” 

Kitty did as she was told, turning the figure over between her fingertips. “Um. Thanks.” 

Erik returned his attention back to the rest of the room, but to his surprise it was completely empty. “I think we've lost our audience, Charles.” He turned back to face his friend, but there was no one there. “Charles?” 

_Charles, can you hear me? Wyngarde's here, he's here and he--_

“Der kleine Erik Lehnsherr.” An all too familiar voice stopped Erik cold. “How long has it been, hmm?” 

“No,” Erik whispered. “I killed you.” 

“Did you?” Sebastian Shaw smoothed the creases in his charcoal grey suit as he approached. “It seems you were mistaken.” 

“You're not real. I killed you. You can't be here.” Charles? Are you there? I need to know you're alright, where are you? 

“I think you'll find I can.” Shaw placed three fingers on Erik's chest and pushed, releasing enough kinetic energy to throw Erik against the far wall. “Is this real enough for you, Erik?” 

~~~

 _Erik, something's wrong, I can't--_ Charles was cut off abruptly as something metallic was slammed roughly over his temples, and he managed to land a single punch on his assailant's jaw before being pinned against the wall, his cheek scraping painfully against concrete. 

“Now, Charles,” Wyngarde tutted. “Is that any way to behave to your superior?” 

Charles squirmed against his grip, but Wyngarde held him down firmly, and Charles caught a glimpse of a white syringe aimed for the back of his neck. 

“No, no please no more drugs just stop!” 

“Just little something to help you relax,” Wyngarde murmured as he inserted the needle. He smiled as Charles' legs gave way beneath him and deftly manoeuvred him into a nearby wheelchair. “Come, Charles. You an I have important matters to discuss.” 

The hallways shifted to accommodate Wyngarde's path as he carted Charles to the elevator, and reformed almost as soon as they had passed through. 

“Where...are the others,” Charles squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, trying to stay focused. 

“Off in their own illusions, I'd wager,” Wyngarde replied. “I'm quite proud of the one I created for your Erik, by the way. It's quite the masterpiece.” 

_Stay awake, keep him talking._

They entered the elevator and Charles winced as it creaked loudly. 

“What did you do to him?” 

“What else? I resurrected an old friend.” 

“You...what?” Charles struggled to process his words. 

“Why Charles, don't tell me you don't know who I'm referring to. He is, after all, the reason we're all here.” 

“Shaw.” 

“The one and only!” Wyngarde said gleefully. “I've fashioned all your little friends their own special hell, just so we can spend some quality time together. Doesn't that make you feel important?” 

“It makes me sick.” 

Wyngarde just laughed. “Oh, that's probably just a side effect of the neural inhibitor I slipped onto your head. We can't have you using that wonderful mind of yours before I'm ready.” 

The elevator lurched to a stop and Wyngarde wheeled Charles down a run down whitewashed hallway to a door marked “PROJECT X”. Instead of a lock, the door sported a square alphanumeric keypad.

“Look, Emma even named this project after you,” Wyngarde said as he keyed in the passcode. 

“I'm...flattered.” 

'You should be. Personally, I think this 'Project X' business is all a bit over the top.” 

Charles raised an eyebrow. “ _You_ do.” 

“Yes, I do,” Wyngarde smirked at him. “I prefer to call it by its name.” He pushed the door open and ushered Charles inside. “Welcome,” he said, pausing as he watched Charles take in the scene before him, “to Cerebro.” 

Charles could swear the room was bigger on the inside. It had to be, otherwise how could they fit this dome-shaped monstrosity underneath the facility? The walls were made up of a series of black panels, backlit with synthetic blue light so that the room seemed to pulse and glow. People in lab coats bustled around, hardly taking notice of Wyngarde's grand entrance, but making way for them all the same. 

“Dr. Wyngarde!” A young man, barely 21 by Charles' estimate, appeared in front of them. He was tall, but then again Charles was sitting down, and wearing a lab coat like everyone else along with a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. “Is this...?” 

“Yes, McCoy, it is. Is the machine ready?”

“Just a few minor adjustments and we'll be ready to go,” McCoy replied anxiously. 

“How minor?” Wyngarde frowned. 

“Just a couple of calibration issues. We'll have it fixed in no time.” 

“You better hope, for your sake, that you do.” 

“Yes sir.” McCoy pushed his glasses up with two fingers and hurried off, and for the first time Charles noticed the imposing structure in the centre of the room. Dozens of wires draped down from the ceiling and connected to what appeared to be a silver helmet, curved to arc around the ears and down into a point on it's wearer's forehead. The entire apparatus was suspended over a small circular stage surrounded by a stainless steel railing. 

“What. Is that,” Charles asked, still gaping at the display. 

“That, my dear, is Shaw's contingency plan,” Wyngarde replied. “It was made for Emma, but unfortunately for Shaw, his precious White Queen wasn't willing to martyr herself for the greater good.” 

“And I'm her replacement.” 

“Indeed. We've tried others, but none of them were as powerful as you. You were always her favourite.” 

Charles shuddered. “Like Erik was Shaw's favourite.” 

“You catch on quick,” Wyngarde smiled appreciatively as he rolled Charles up the winding ramp to the helmet. “Now you just sit here and look pretty while I make sure McCoy's got this thing up and running.” 

_Alright, just calm down, you can do this. Wyngarde's got to take this inhibitor off for you to use the machine, right?_

“Right,” Charles mumbled. “And then I'll get out of here. Right after I'm able to feel my legs again.” 

“What's that?” Wyngarde glanced back at him as he retreated down the ramp. 

“Nothing,” Charles sighed. “Nothing at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: For those of you who don't know, Troy was Emma's first boyfriend. He owed money to a gang leader who kidnapped Emma and killed Troy in the process. For more on him and her comic history, check out the Emma Frost ongoing (now cancelled) series collected [here](http://www.amazon.ca/Emma-Frost-Ultimate-Collection-Bollers/dp/0785155104/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1333051655&sr=1-1)
> 
> Also I found it hilarious that just as I wrote Wyngarde introducing Cerebro, the track "Cerebro" from XMFC came up on my Ipod's shuffle XD


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cue climactic final battle scene and all the angry possessive Erik I can squeeze into one chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One, possibly two more chapters after this and then it'll be done - eternal thanks to everyone who's stuck with me and my slow updates all this time <33333 I hope these chapters are worth the wait!

“Where did everyone go?” Kitty glanced frantically around the now empty room. They couldn't have just disappeared like that, but here she stood, on her own. Standing, Kitty found, was a relative term, because as soon as she thought it she began to phase through the floor. “No, come on, not again,” she pleaded. She tried to brace her hands on the floor , but they just phased right through along with the rest of her. “It was under control! Come on, you can do this-- nnnngh!” She tried to force herself upwards, but despite her best efforts she ended up chin deep in concrete, her feet no doubt dangling from the ceiling below. She shut her eyes tightly and inhaled deeply, releasing it slowly as she sank ever deeper. When she took the next breath, she managed to raise herself a few inches. She kept her eyes resolutely closed until she completely re-emerged and hovered half a foot off the ground. 

“Ha!” Kitty dropped to the floor and sighed with relief as she remained solid. 

“Is someone there?” 

Kitty turned to find a long black box, roughly the size and shape of a coffin. That hadn't been there before, she thought. She ran her fingertips along the sides and edges, searching for seams or hidden locks. “'Ro? Is that you?” 

“Please, help me, I can't see, I can't breathe, just get me out of here!” Ororo's voice was muffled, but her rising panic was all too clear. 

“Just try and stay calm, I'll get you out.” There was no way to open the box, no locks, latches, or cracks to break into. “Listen carefully, 'Ro. This box is completely sealed. There's no way in, or out for that matter,” Kitty tried to speak soothingly, but she doubted it was actually helping. “I'm going to try and phase through and pull you out, alright?” 

She didn't wait for a response before leaning over the box and phasing her upper body through. It was pitch black, but Ororo's laboured breathing was close to her ear and she grabbed onto her friend's shoulders. “Hold tight,” she ordered. Ororo obeyed, wrapping her arms around Kitty's waist, and they both phased back out again. 

“Hey, it's okay, you're okay now,” Kitty murmured, stroking Ororo's hair. 

Ororo sniffed and detached herself from Kitty's waist. “I couldn't...it was so dark. And the walls were so close.” 

“I know. But look, it wasn't real. You were never in danger.” Sure enough, the black box evaporated before their eyes, as though it was never there. 

“But you saw it, right? I'm not going crazy?” 

“Yeah, I saw it. Remember what Charles told us? They just want us to think we're going mad.” Kitty helped Ororo to her feet and took her hand. “Come on, we need to find the others.” 

“Hey!” Alex appeared in the doorway, eyes darting around the room. “Where is everyone?” 

“We were going to ask you that,” Ororo replied. “How did you get out there?” 

“No idea,” Alex shook his head. “I saw my—uh, things. Bad things. And then I was out in the hallway.” 

“Someone's clearly trying to mess with us,” Kitty said. 

“No kidding. Oh,and I ran into Marie and Remy heading for the nearest exit. I guess they decided not to stick around after all.” 

“Yeah, well we're staying put. Right, 'Ro?” 

Ororo nodded. “This is Dr. Wyngarde's doing. If we find him, we'll probably find Charles and Erik as well.” 

“Fair enough,” Alex said. “Let's get a move on.” 

After a quick debate, all three concluded that finding a way upstairs to the offices was their best option. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, and the more they walked the farther away the end seemed. 

“This way,” Ororo said, rounding a corner that Kitty and Alex could have sworn wasn't there before. Sure enough, there was the elevator, and the overhead display showed that it was going down. 

“Does this place even have a downstairs?” Alex asked.

Ororo shrugged. “It does now. I guess that's where we're going, too.” As she moved to press the call button, she caught a flash of white out of the corner of her eye, and a quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her fears. “You! But you're...you're...” 

Dr. Frost's skin rippled as she approached, shifting from smooth ivory to deep blue scales. “Relax, guys. It's only me.” 

Ororo breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought you were the real thing.” 

“Same here,” Kitty said. “Why the disguise?” 

“I ran into a couple of Wyngarde's goons and figured I'd hide in plain sight,” Raven explained. “They said Wyngarde took Charles down to the lower level, to something called Cerebro.” 

The elevator creaked noisily behind them, signifying it's arrival, and Ororo all but yanked Raven inside, with Alex and Kitty close behind. “Then we need to get down there now,” Ororo said firmly. She pushed an unlabelled button underneath the one marked “G”. 

“What do you know?” Raven demanded. 

“I've heard Frost talking about it with the other doctors. All I know is that she tried to use it, and the effort nearly killed her, so she's been looking for someone to take her place.” 

“Why? What does it do?” 

Ororo shook her head. “I don't know. They don't tell me anything directly.” 

The elevator ground to a halt and the doors opened to reveal a whitewashed hallway, older and not nearly as well kept as the rest of the building. 

“Right. Let's go find my brother.” 

~~~

“Alex? Erik?” Angel flew down the hallway, checking every empty room and locked door as she headed, she assumed, in the general direction of the cafeteria. The hallways looked different, distorted somehow, and she began to feel like she was flying in circles. She turned right at the next corner and tried calling her friends' names again, but there was no response. 

“Damn it,” she muttered. She turned another corner and found herself back where she started, hovering in front of room 211. “This doesn't even make sense.” Angel glared at the number before continuing down the hall, this time taking a left turn, but once again she ended up back in front of 211. 

“You want to play it that way? Fine.” She spun around and collided with a mess of curly red hair, causing both of them to stumble backwards from the impact. “Christ, Sean, don't sneak up on me like that!” She exclaimed. “Where are Alex and the others?” 

Sean shrugged and nodded in the direction Angel had just come from. 

“I was just down there. All of these stupid hallways lead back here,” Angel insisted. 

Sean shook his head furiously and pointed in the same direction. 

“Fine, we'll do it your way,” she conceded. “It's better than sitting here and doing nothing.” 

Sean gave her a half smile and led her past rooms 210-202, turned right, and then right again. 

“This isn't going to get us anywhere, we're just—huh.” They were in a new hallway now, this time in the 100s. “How did you do that?” 

Sean shrugged again and kept walking, pausing briefly in front of room 134. 

“They aren't there, Sean. No one's where they're supposed to be,” Angel said gently. “We need to get back to the cafeteria.” 

“So it would seem.” The pair turned simultaneously to face Azazel, who was holding a hand out to them. “Come. We're out of time.” 

Angel took his offered hand and held hers out to Sean. “You heard the man.” 

They vanished in a puff of red smoke, and, to their collective surprise, materialized in front of room 211. 

“Really?” Angel crossed her arms, wings fluttering restlessly behind her. “Really?” 

Azazel frowned. “Wyngarde's illusions must be interfering with my abilities.” 

“That's just great. We're right back where we started. I was better off just following him.” Sean tapped Angel's shoulder and she wheeled on him, her impatience growing. “What now?” 

Sean pointed at two men now standing before them in the hallway, one rotund and roughly Angel's height, with a thick blonde beard obscuring most of his features, and the other tall and lean blonde as well but clean shaven. They looked almost comical standing next to each other in matching black suits underneath pristine white lab coats. 

“Ah, Azazel,” the shorter one said. “I see you've done our work for us.” 

Azazel growled and placed himself in front of Angel and Sean. “You will not take these children, Leland.” 

Leland smiled amicably. “Aren't you precious.” 

“Deluded is more like it,” the other man smirked. 

Azazel took a step towards them, then another, each one more laboured than the last. 

“Have you forgotten what I can do already?” Leland laughed. “Let's see how well you fare when I triple your body's density!” 

Angel moved to the side and spat an acid bomb at the two men, aiming to distract, but instead hit the taller one's shoulder. He screamed and ripped off his disintegrating layers of sleeve in one yank, revealing a prosthetic metal limb underneath. Leland ducked away from his partner's flailing, momentarily taking his eyes off of Azazel. “ Get that thing away from me, Pierce!” 

Azazel took advantage of the reprieve and grabbed Leland's shoulders before teleporting from the room. There was a horrible scream from somewhere outside, followed by a loud thud, and then Azazel was back. 

“What did you do to him?” Pierce shrieked, still clutching his injured arm. 

“Dropped him like a rock. Literally,” Azazel replied. “Your turn.” 

Pierce easily evaded Azazel's grasp, moving at inhuman speed until he was inches away from Angel. “You're going to pay for my arm, girl,” he snarled. His fingers closed around her throat and he yanked her in front of him to use as a shield. “Back off, or I crush her windpipe. This arm is still working just fine.” 

Azazel took a step back and dropped his arms to his sides. 

Pierce laughed. “You're getting soft, old boy.” 

“Cover your ears!” Sean bolted in front of Azazel and met Angel's eyes. “Now!” 

Too shocked to speak, Angel weakly lifted her hands and obeyed as Sean opened his mouth and screamed. It echoed down the hallway and shook Pierce right down to his core, causing him to release Angel and clutch the sides of his head in agony. Angel dropped to the ground and rolled out of reach, hands still covering her ears. Sean continued to scream as Pierce's arm crackled and exploded, and his entire body spasmed before dropping motionless to the floor. 

Sean's lungs finally gave out and he gasped for air, chest heaving. Angel tentatively uncovered her ears and got to her feet, still staring at Sean in astonishment. 

“Nice going, Sean,” she says finally. “Didn't know you had it in you!” 

“I didn't want you to,” Sean said quietly, his voice cultured by a soft Irish lilt. “I've...hurt people.” 

“You've got no reason to be ashamed,” Azazel spoke up, placing a comforting hand on Sean's shoulder. “It's not uncommon for casualties to occur when our powers manifest. How do you think my mother reacted when I emerged from her womb, looking like this?” he gestured to himself. 

“Azazel's right,” Angel said. “You don't have to hide from us. You did just save my life, after all.” 

Sean grinned back at her. “Yeah, I guess I did!” 

“Great. Can we go find the others now?” 

Azazel frowned, thinking. “I wonder...” He walked over to Room 211 and tried the doorknob. Finding it unlocked, he pushed the door open and peered inside. “I think I found the cafeteria.” 

“No way!” Angel pushed past him, and sure enough, there were the familiar white Formica table and chair sets. “Oh, that is just--” A loud crash from the kitchen cut her off, and all three bolted over to the far doors. 

“Go ahead, Erik. Do it. Kill me all over again,” a voice taunted, and Angel opened the door just a crack to look inside. A man in a 1940s style suit, hair swept back in a 1960s wave, was pinned to the wall by what looked like a multitude of melted utensils and cooking pots, a large butcher knife hovering directly between his eyes. Erik didn't even seem to notice their presence in the doorway; his sole focus was the stranger before him. 

“You may have created me, Shaw, but you don't control me anymore,” Erik said. The tip of the knife pressed against the other man's skin as he spoke. “A good friend once said that I had it in me to be the better man. And you know something? He was right.” The knife clattered to the floor and Erik turned his back on Shaw. “You're just an illusion, nothing more. Nothing at all.” 

Shaw opened his mouth to speak, but instead evaporated into fog and disappeared. Erik smiled to himself and called a serving spoon into his hand, moulded into a shapeless lump half the size of his fist and slipped it into his pocket. The weight of it was different from the paper clip he'd given to Kitty, but still comforting and familiar. 

“Erik!” He glanced up at the sound of his name, and was surprised to see Angel waving him over. “Are you okay?” 

“I am now,” he replied, joining them outside the kitchen. “Have you seen Charles?”

Angel shook her head. “We haven't seen any of the others.” 

“Wyngarde's probably taken him,” Azazel said. “His associates attacked us in the hallway just before we found you.” 

“And you'll never guess what Sean did!” Angel interrupted.“This kid's got a set of lungs on him!” 

She pulled Sean up beside her, and he reluctantly met Erik's eyes. “My mum used to say I wailed like a Banshee.” 

Erik afforded him an amused smile before addressing Azazel. “Where's Wyngarde taken him?” 

“There's a complex a few levels down. We'll have to take the stairs,” Azazel added. “I can't teleport with him altering my perception like this.” 

“Fine.” Erik strode to the door and entered the hallway, with the other three following close behind. 

“Which way?” Angel asked. 

Azazel shook his head. “I don't know. He's changed too much.” 

“Quiet.” Erik closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, probing for any nearby metal. He ignored the lump of stainless steel in his pocket and pushed past the mutilated pots and pans in the kitchen, past the weight room with its dumbbells that hummed against his familiar mental touch, and...there. Even from this distance, Erik could feel the elevator rattle and creak as someone –no, scratch that, at least three people entered the elevator, and he caught the unmistakable hum of a certain cat-shaped paper clip. 

“Elevator's this way,” he said. “Kitty's already there, with at least two others.” 

“How do you know?” Sean asked. 

Erik picked up his pace, forcing Azazel and Sean to jog to keep up while Angel flew behind them. “The paper clip I gave her,” he replied. “Not as good as telepathy, but it serves its purpose.” 

The elevator doors had just slammed shut when they arrived, but Erik just rounded the corner and headed for the stairs without slowing down. 

“Wait.” Azazel grabbed Erik's arm and held his hand out for Angel, who took it and grabbed Sean. They materialized on the lower level in front of the elevator. “He's losing focus,” Azazel said. “Charles must be putting up a fight.” 

“Hey!” Raven called from down the hallway. “Took you guys long enough!” 

“You try tracking someone via paper clip and see how long it takes,” Erik retorted. 

Kitty's eyebrows shot up and she reached in her pocket to finger the tiny metal cat. “Seriously?” 

Erik's group caught up to Raven and the others, in front of a door marked “PROJECT X”. 

“I'm always serious,” Erik said. “This is it?” 

Azazel nodded. “I don't have the passcode.” 

Kitty smirked and phased her hand through the alphanumeric lock. There was a muted crackle and then a click as the screen went black and the door unlocked. “You were saying?” 

Erik pushed the door open, but, to their collective surprise, the room was completely empty. A young girl in patient scrubs stood in the centre of the room and stared at the group through mismatched eyes. She looked far too young to be there, but then again Erik had been about her age when Shaw began his experiments. 

“What are you doing here?” the girl asked. 

“She's just another illusion,” Azazel murmured. “One of Wyngarde's favourites.” 

“Charles?” Erik called. “Charles, can you hear me?” 

The girl gave him an amused smile. “Who are you talking to? There's no one else here.” 

“We don't have time for this.” Ororo pushed past the others into the room. “Brace yourself, Erik. It's about to get very cold in here.” 

The temperature dropped to below freezing instantly, and an ice cold wind whipped through the room. 

“What are you doing? Stop it!” The girl wrapped her arms around herself and backed away. Erik steeled himself against the cold while Azazel wrapped his arms protectively around Raven. The rest of the group huddled together, still half out in the hallway. 

“Stop!” The girl shouted again through chattering teeth. “You're ruining it!” She fell to her knees and disappeared, and Ororo took that as her cue to calm the storm. The room shimmered and came into focus around them, sharp white corners shifting into a large backlit dome. Erik's eyes immediately fell on Charles, slumped in a wheelchair on a raised circular platform. 

“Charles!” the other man twitched at the sound of his name, but didn't lift his head. 

“Oh look, the gang's all here!” Wyngarde emerged from behind a large flat screen monitor and clapped his hands together. “Come to play hero for your damsel in distress, Erik?” 

“Don't test me, Wyngarde,” Erik snarled. “There is a lot of metal in this room. I could kill you at least twenty different ways before you even realized what was happening.” 

“But you won't,” Wyngarde replied. “Because you don't want poor Charles over there to see you that way.” 

The computers and various other machinery rumbled, causing those using them to step back in alarm. “Want to bet?” 

Wyngarde just smirked and rocked forward on his toes to glance over Erik's shoulder. “I've never been much for gambling.” 

There was a shout from behind him and Erik looked back just in time to catch a small tornado blast through the hall towards his friends. It slammed into another, larger whirlwind before it could reach them, and Erik shot Ororo an approving glance before he saw who was behind the attack. It seemed that Janos had chosen a side after all. Erik caught a blurred figure aimed straight for Ororo and was about to warn her, but Sean beat him to it, letting loose a scream that threw the would-be assailant backwards and right into Janos. 

Erik turned on Wyngarde and retrieved the lump of steel from his pocket, rage welling up inside him. The metal melted easily into a smooth, viscous liquid that, at Erik's command, began to seep into Wyngarde's nose and mouth. “Call them off,” he growled. “Unless you think you can survive without lungs.” 

Wyngarde shook his head furiously as he struggled for air, and the metal began to solidify as it hit the back of his throat. 

“Last chance.” 

Wyngarde made a strangled noise that sounded almost like a laugh, and then Erik was on the ground as the world warped and reeled around him. He couldn't think, couldn't see straight, and the steel slipped from his grasp as he shut his eyes and willed the room to stop spinning. 

“Go, Erik!” Raven's voice brought him back to the present, and he opened his eyes to find that he could see again. Raven had a blonde woman in a tight green dress pinned to the ground, and Azazel was circling Wyngarde nearby. “Hurry up!” 

Erik scrambled to his feet and bolted up the ramp to the platform. He knelt in front of Charles and touched the metal headpiece encircling Charles' skull before carefully prying it loose with his power. Charles snapped to attention at the disruption but Erik held him still until he safely detached the device and lowered it to the floor. Charles flooded Erik's mind instantly, not searching for anything but merely reveling in the sensation of having his powers returned. Erik inhaled sharply at the intrusion, but in truth he hadn't felt whole without Charles' presence in his mind. Besides, he thought idly, he couldn't stop Charles if he wanted to. 

“I would stop if you asked,” Charles said softly. 

“I don't want you to,” Erik replied. “You...you make me better.”

Charles smiled. “What did I miss?” 

“See for yourself.” Erik gestured to the scene below, where Raven rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding Alex's energy blast aimed at a blue-skinned man with metal wings, Azazel deftly teleported to avoid Wyngarde's punches, and Angel and Sean took on Janos and a toad-like man with an unnaturally long discoloured tongue. “Raven led the rescue mission.” 

“You give yourself too little credit, my friend,” Charles said, rising from the wheelchair. “It's time to put an end to this fighting.” 

Erik grabbed his hand, concern darkening his expression. “But you're not--” 

“I'm fine, the drugs wore off before you arrived.” 

Erik stared at him. “You were faking it.” 

“Yes. And now--” 

“Damn it, Charles, you nearly gave me a heart attack! I was ready to murder Wyngarde with my bare hands for you!” 

Charles gave Erik's hand a squeeze and faced the melee before them. “And I might have let you.” He raised two fingers to his temple, and Wyngarde and his team froze in place, unable to move. Raven pushed the now motionless blonde off of her and stood up, confused, while Angel nearly choked on the acid bomb in her throat in surprise. Alex and Sean glanced at each other, and then reached out to poke their opponents curiously. 

“Erik, if you please,” Charles said. “I can't hold all of them for long.” 

Erik nodded and the metal railings lining the ramp and platform tore out of the floor and lunged at the frozen figures below, wrapping around outstretched limbs and forcing them to the ground. Satisfied, Charles released everyone except Wyngarde, who was still pinned to the wall by Azazel. 

“He's not going anywhere,” Erik said, glancing at Charles, whose eyes were now squeezed shut. “He's got more important things to worry about now.” 

_Did you hear that, Jason? We have important things to discuss, you and I. Like how you drugged me and tried to force me to murder a third of the population with that machine of yours. Or how you threatened and assisted in the torture of my sister. Or how you forced my best friend to confront his worst nightmares all over again._

Wyngarde glanced frantically around the empty white room. The entire scene had dropped away from him, leaving him standing alone and trying desperately to mold it back into an acceptable reality. “Where are you? Show yourself, you coward!”

_Says the man who's spent his entire life running from his past and hiding inside his own illusions. How does it feel, Jason, to be trapped by your own tricks?_

Wyngarde's body rippled and shrank by about 2 inches, revealing a hunched, greasy haired man with a thin, ragged moustache and mismatched blue and brown eyes. 

“Stop it! This isn't me!” 

_Oh, but it is. That's the best part. Would you like to see what else I found lurking in the deep dark corners of your mind?_

“No, stay out!” Wyngarde shouted. “You can't do this!” 

_Really? Because I think your father might have a few choice words for you about stealing that neural inhibitor prototype from him back in the day. And the fact that you drove your mother insane with your illusions certainly doesn't help things. Perhaps an instant replay of the power drill entering her skull will refresh your memory..._

“Please, anything but that, I'll do anything, just not that!” Wyngarde was backed right up against the wall now, eyes focused upwards as he mumbled what sounded like a prayer. 

_::Charles, can you hear me?::_

_I'm a bit busy, Erik._

_::Wyngarde's on the floor, except it's not him anymore, it's some greasy little rat in a suit.::_

_That's his real face. I stripped him of his illusions. Now please, I need to--_

_::Charles, he's literally convulsing right now. Don't you think he's had enough?::_

_No. It's not enough. It'll never be enough,_ Charles insisted. _I have to finish this._

_::Not like this you don't. You said yourself, we're the better men. Now's the time to prove it.::_

“Hey! Where did you go?” Wyngarde shouted. “Are you just going to leave me here?” 

Charles turned his attention back to Wyngarde. _Yes, actually, I think I will._

“What? No, no come back--” 

Charles ignored him and slipped out of Wyngarde's mind and back to the present, where Erik, and everyone else for that matter, was staring at him anxiously. 

“Is everyone all right?” Charles asked, looking around. 

“Everyone except Wyngarde,” Erik replied, nodding to the now comatose figure that Azazel had let fall to the ground. “Is this going to become a regular thing, because at this rate we're going to end up filling all the empty rooms with doctors instead of patients.” 

“I'm sorry,” Charles said quietly. “I got a bit carried away, and if you hadn't...I might have...I might not have stopped.” 

“Hey,” Erik tilted Charles' chin up to meet his eyes. “You would have done the same for me.” 

“Would you two just kiss already!” Raven shouted. “We can feel the tension from all the way over here!” 

Erik blushed furiously, earning him a mischievous grin from Charles. “Subtlety isn't in your sister's vocabulary, is it?” 

“Oh, just come here.” And then Charles' lips were crashing hungrily against Erik's own, sweet and demanding as Charles wrapped his arms around Erik's neck to bring him closer. Charles made a soft keening noise as Erik nibbled his lower lip in and then teased his way into Charles' mouth, who eagerly allowed him access to deepen the kiss. Erik let out a slight whimper, much to his embarrassment, but Charles barely seemed to noticed as he sucked hard on Erik's tongue, causing Erik to grind himself against Charles' thigh. 

“God—Erik--” Charles moaned against Erik's lips, earning a couple of catcalls from Angel and Raven below. _Not here, people are watching, and if you keep this up I really won't be able to stop myself._

Erik reluctantly obeyed, but kept his hands firmly locked on Charles' hips. “When we get out of here...” 

Charles' smile faded as he looked away. “When we...get out of here,” he repeated, almost to himself. 

Erik nodded and gestured to the others, who were now milling about, unsure of what to do with themselves. “There's no place for us here anymore.” 

“We don't have anywhere else to go,” Angel cut in, and Sean and Ororo nodded in agreement. “It's great that we formed this little team and stopped Frost and Wyngarde's plot to take over the world or whatever, but has anyone thought about what happens after?” 

Charles shared a knowing glance with his sister before addressing the group. “I think may have a solution.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is still reading and has been waiting patiently while I put this on hold for McFassy Fest (which is now finished!), I hope the update was worth the wait! 
> 
> Oh, and here's Erik's [car](http://www.audi.ca/ca/brand/en/models/R8_GT_Spyder.html), for those who are curious!
> 
>  **Edit:** I changed the ending a bit (as of July 31) because I wasn't satisfied with it the first time around. This ending flows better into the final chapter, which is already in progress.

The plan, as Charles explained it, was simple enough. Alex would set the fire in the basement, destroying all traces of Cerebro, and Charles would convince the authorities that all patients had been evacuated and transported to the larger hospital in New York City. When Raven asked what they were going to do with Frost and Wyngarde, Charles had simply shrugged and replied, “Leave them.” Then, noticing Raven's shock, he elaborated. “Just because I didn't kill them, that doesn't mean I have to save them.” Raven was still appalled by his response, but she reluctantly let it slide. 

Now, however, facing the huge white double doors, Charles realized he had forgotten about one tiny detail. 

“After everything that's happened,” Erik said, “You're still afraid to walk out the front door?” 

Charles eyed the exit apprehensively. “That was outside. This is inside.”

“Exactly,” Erik replied. “Outside, where everyone, including your sister, is waiting. Where there's no one to tell you to take your pills or to shut up and behave. Where you can see snow again, and rain, and sun, and everything else in between, just like you wanted.” 

Charles dropped his gaze to the floor, and, without another word, turned and sprinted back down the long hallway. 

“Charles!” Erik chased after him and caught up to him outside their old room. Charles was standing in the doorway, staring at the rumpled bedclothes but, Erik noticed with some relief, not making a move towards them.

“I was going to get _Monte Cristo_ ,” Charles said finally. “But I can't even bring myself to set foot in this room. I don't belong here anymore.” He glanced up at Erik. “Do I?” 

“No, you don't,” Erik agreed. “And personally, I don't think you ever did. Besides,” he added, “our story of imprisonment and revenge was much more exciting.” 

Charles smiled and slipped his hand into Erik's, fingers lacing together as though they'd never been apart. “I'm ready to go now.” 

This time, when Charles stopped in front of the exit, he dropped Erik's hand and pushed the door open without hesitation. He blinked and squinted into the bright morning sunlight as he stepped onto the pavement, which was, Charles thought, too much like the cold cement floors of the facility. He was barely aware of Erik, Raven, and the others staring at him as he padded barefoot onto the grass lining the walkway, the blades scrunching under his heels and tickling his toes. He knelt down and brushed his fingers through the grass as well before pressing them into the moist dirt below, marvelling at how it stained his hands and burrowed under his fingernails. Charles was so absorbed by these new sensations that he didn't notice Raven, now pale and blonde in denim shorts and a t-shirt, flopped down on the ground beside him. 

“Four years later, and its still the same old trampled grass and dirt as the day you arrived,” she said. “How does it feel to be out for good this time?” 

“I feel like...” Charles paused. “Like for the first time, I'm completely free. Like I can do anything. And yet here I am, going to the one place I loathe almost as much as here, because these kids need somewhere to go.” 

“Charles, no one's making you go home,” Raven said gently. “I could take care of them with Azazel, and you could do whatever you want.” 

“That's just it, though. I don't know what I want, or where to even start to figure it out.” 

“Well,” Raven said thoughtfully, “You're doing pretty well with the grass.” 

Charles laughed softly. “Yes, I suppose I am.” He stood up and cocked his head to one side. “Alex and Azazel are coming.” Sure enough, a puff of dark smoke announced their arrival, while a thicker grey smoke began to curl its way up and out of the facility windows. 

“That's our cue to leave.” Raven stood as well and faced her brother. “Is this goodbye for now, or goodbye for longer?” 

Charles sighed. “I'll sort things out here with Erik and see you at the house.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“If I'm not, I'll just leave later. At least this way I'll have clean clothes, money, and a bed until I decide.” 

Raven's response was interrupted by Angel flying between them, clearly impatient. “Are we going or what? The fire trucks are almost here, and I saw that other doctor, MacTaggart, stuck in traffic a couple blocks down.”

“Go get Azazel,” Raven waved her away. “He's supposed to have one of those white buses ready by now.” 

“Will do.” Angel nodded and flew off again. 

“Alright, I'm going then,” Raven announced. “If you change your mind, I at least expect a proper goodbye before you disappear.” 

Charles nodded. “Of course.”

“Are you sure you're okay?” she frowned. “I mean really okay.” 

“I'm fine,” Charles confirmed with a wan smile. “Now get going, before I have to explain more than just a burning building to these people.” 

Raven nodded, apparently satisfied. “See you at home.” She pulled him into a quick hug and then ran across the grass to the main road, where a small white bus was now parked, and followed Sean and Alex on board. 

“Is everything okay?” Erik came up beside Charles and slipped an arm around his waist.

“I'm fine,” Charles repeated. “But if one more person asks me that, they're going to spend the rest of their life believing they're a six year old girl.” 

“Duly noted,” Erik said, frowning slightly at Charles' hardened expression. “Let's get this over with, then.” 

~~~

Charles waited until they had put a few blocks between themselves and the facility before asking Erik to roll the top of the Audi GT Spyder that Erik had commandeered from the parking lot. Erik obliged while Charles propped his feet up on the dash and gazed out at the trees and buildings passing by. 

“You should put your seatbelt on,” Erik remarked. 

“Why? You've got everything under control,” Charles replied curtly. Without the keys to the Audi, Erik had simply reached out a tendril of his power and started the engine, and was now steering manually more for show than anything else. 

Erik gave a slight deferential nod and focused on the directions Charles had planted in his mind. Ever since they had gotten out of that basement, Charles had seemed tense and irritable, snapping at anyone who so much as glanced in his direction, and yet there were other moments when he still seemed so vulnerable and unsure of himself. In fact, Charles' moods had been shifting so rapidly that Erik wasn't even sure where he stood with his friend anymore. Erik's mind wandered back to the kiss they had shared, unable to reconcile that mutual heat and desire with the cool, dismissive Charles that sat next to him now. The sudden change in his friend's demeanour had left him wondering if that moment had happened at all. 

“Of course it happened,” Charles said, and, noticing Erik's cursory glance, he added, “you think I'm being irritable?” 

“I didn't say that!”

“But you were thinking it.” Charles frowned. “Maybe I am, a little bit. It's just difficult, you know? Deciding.” 

“Deciding what?” Erik asked carefully. 

“This. Us. Me, mostly. Everything.” He fell silent and chewed nervously on his lower lip. Erik said nothing, waiting patiently for Charles to elaborate. 

“They need somewhere to go,” Charles said finally, more to himself than to Erik. “Where they won't be treated like freaks, or locked away like I was out of hatred and fear. It's the right thing to do.” 

“For you, or for them?” Erik asked. 

“I'm doing the right thing,” Charles repeated, more forcefully this time. 

“Stop avoiding the question. Who exactly are you trying to convince?” 

Charles glared at him. “I don't know what's right for me, alright? Until I figure that out, I need something else to focus on, and these children are it. Don't ruin this for me, Erik.” 

“'Don't ruin this?'” Erik fought to keep his voice steady against the anger that welled up inside him. “I've done everything in my power to help you, to do what's best for you, since I arrived at that miserable place! And now you're pushing me away because you're angry and confused and you're too scared to figure things out for yourself. If you want to know who's ruining things, Charles, maybe you should take a look in the mirror!” He swerved and took the next exit past a sign indicating Salem Center only a few miles ahead before glancing over at Charles, who had shrunk back against the passenger door, knees drawn to his chest. 

Erik sighed. “Look, I didn't mean to--” 

“But you did,” Charles interrupted. “And you're right. I've never had this kind of freedom before, and it's terrifying.” He let out a harsh laugh. “I am scared out of my mind, and it's easier to be angry than to face it. You of all people should understand that.” _Please, Erik. I can't do this alone._

“I'm not going anywhere,” Erik reassured him. “Come here.”

Charles obligingly shifted and tucked himself against Erik's side as Erik put his arm around him. They rode the rest of the way in silence, Charles absently playing with Erik's fingers in his lap while Erik kept one eye on the road and the other on his friend's vacant expression. He kept his thoughts carefully blank, projecting only _love you_ and _always_ when he felt Charles twitch restlessly against him. 

Erik pulled into the open gates of the Xavier Estates and couldn’t help but stare at the huge mansion looming at the end of the driveway. Charles was out of the car before he’d even killed the engine, ignoring the mansion completely as he approached Raven and the others loitering around the main entrance. 

“You could have gone in without me,” he commented. 

“That’s what I said, but they all insisted that we wait for you,” Raven shrugged. “You were only a few minutes behind anyway, and technically it is your house.” 

Erik strode over to the rest of the group, casually hanging a few steps back from Charles as though afraid to interrupt.

“What if I’d actually decided not to come back? You would have been sitting out here all night,” Charles said. 

“But you didn’t and we’re not, so it doesn’t matter, now does it?” Raven slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow and led him up to the front door. “Come on,” she called behind her. “Time for the tour.” 

~~~

**Two Weeks Later**

Charles placed the last two pawns on the mahogany chess board and leaned back in the white deck chair, eyes closed, while he waited for Erik to join him. He felt Raven’s presence before he heard the soft slap of her bare feet on the ground, still wet from being in the pool. 

“Come on, Raven,” Sean called out, circling his arms to stay afloat in the deep end. “You can’t just jump out of the water every time you get tagged.” 

“Just a minute!” She poked Charles’ arm, causing him to open his eyes and blink up at her. She was her natural blue self again today, having decided shortly after they’d arrived that this was her home and she’d walk around as whatever colour she pleased. “You sure you don’t want to come in? You can just dangle your feet if you want.” 

“I’m perfectly alright over here,” Charles replied, glancing past Raven to watch Alex attempt to dunk Sean’s head under the water while Ororo made a point of swimming far out of their reach. Azazel, meanwhile, ignored their roughhousing and slipped quietly up to the pool’s edge, only his eyes and nose above the surface. He winked at Charles, who returned his attention to his sister. “It’s much… safer up here.” 

“Alright, but if you change your mind—hey!” Raven shrieked as Azazel’s tail whipped out and caught her ankle, sending her tumbling backwards into the pool. Charles tried not to laugh and failed miserably, earning an only half-serious glare from Raven as she coughed up chlorinated water. 

“You think this is funny? Get over here and I’ll show you funny!” 

Charles just shook his head, still laughing, while Raven shifted her lower half into a fish tail and used it to generate a great splash that Azazel, still grinning widely, feebly attempted to evade. 

“Quit it, you guys!” Kitty phased herself and her lounge chair just in time for the spray of water to hit the wooden fence behind her. “At this rate I’m never going to get a good tan!” 

“I don’t know,” Alex said. “I hear the pasty-faced hospital look if in this year.” 

“Hey,” Erik interrupted, walking over to where Charles was sitting, “look who I found.” 

All eyes turned to the newcomers, looking out of place next to the pool in their long coats and gloves. 

“Um. Hi,” Marie said, looking around nervously. “So Remy and I were thinking, you know, if you’ll have us…” 

Angel flew out of her seat next to Kitty and grabbed Marie in a tight hug. “Of course we will! Where’ve you been, girl? You missed all the excitement!” 

Marie smiled. “It’s a long story.” 

There was a loud splash from behind them, and both girls turned just in time to watch Erik come up for air, fully clothed and looking ready to murder Raven with his bare hands. Raven just shrugged innocently and swam out of reach, flicking more water into his face with her tail. 

Charles giggled, but quickly clapped a hand over his mouth when he caught Erik staring. The look on Erik’s face was enough to set him off again, though, peals of laughter shaking his still too-thin frame. Erik ducked underwater and swam towards Raven, who had her back to him while she greeted Rogue and Remy. A moment later she was pulled under as well and Erik’s head bobbed up, triumphant. Raven spluttered and glared at Erik before breaking out into a grin. “Nice one, shark boy.” 

Erik raised an eyebrow. “Shark boy?” 

“Charles was humming the theme to Jaws in my head when you snuck up on me, and I still couldn’t figure out what was going on,” she laughed. 

Erik smiled thinly, afraid to show too many teeth lest the shark analogy be expanded, and climbed out of the pool. Charles, having managed to stop laughing, handed him a navy blue beach towel, which he gratefully accepted. 

“By the way,” Charles said casually, moving his first pawn out, “Hank says he’s got Cerebro basically up and running. We’re going to test it out later tonight.” 

Erik stared at him. “Are you sure that’s wise? We don’t even know what that thing would have done to you before.” 

“Hank has rebuilt Cerebro for its original purpose, which was merely to locate other mutants. I want to use it to find the other patients from the facility, and from there anyone else that needs a home and acceptance.” 

“That’s all very touching, Charles, but this machine was Shaw and Frost’s brainchild, and Hank did work for them, in case you’ve forgotten,” Erik argued. 

Charles frowned at him. “I’m a telepath, Erik. I’ve looked into his mind, and I’ve seen how he was forced to work for them. They promised him a cure, did you know that? A cure for his above average strength and agility, and of course those marvellous feet of his. All he wanted was to be like everyone else, and they exploited him for it.” 

“Maybe he should have learned to accept himself instead of trying to get rid of what makes him who he is. Mutation is a gift, not a curse.” 

“And how many others have thought the reverse?” Charles demanded, gesturing to the other around them. “How many others have been locked up in a mental hospital for who knows how long and convinced that they’re insane for being ‘gifted’? Would you condemn them as well, Erik, for wishing they could be someone else? For having nightmares about hurting those closest to them? Which, I might add, you yourself have experienced?” His voice rose as he spoke, and Raven glanced over at him with concern. 

“I am more than aware of exactly how we’ve been abused and exploited, by humans and mutants alike,” Erik retorted. “And I’m all for finding other like us and providing sanctuary for them. What I don’t agree with is you using that infernal device to do so!” 

“Have you got another solution?” Charles asked. “This is by far the most efficient and practical means of finding them.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” 

“Erik—”

“Look, you know I’ll be there to support you in whatever you decide,” Erik said. “But please, just do me one favour and think about it before you go hooking your brain up to that machine.” 

Charles leaned back in the chair and sighed. “All right. I promise I will consider your misgivings concerning Cerebro before the test run tonight.”

“That’s all I ask.” _Except that’s the problem_ , Erik thought, moving his pawn forward. _He already has._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had this entire chapter outlined where Charles is so happy to be leaving, and he's outside and has this whole Rapunzel moment like "just feel that summer breeze, the way it's calling me..." and he spends the whole car ride home pointing out random things that interest him, and it's all a perfect fairy tale ending wrapped up in a bow. 
> 
> And then I finished writing and read it back, and this was what I had instead. I really have no idea how this got away from me, but apparently Charles has his own ideas about how this story needs to end. 
> 
> So. One more chapter to go, and one more chance for me to sort these two out. There is a happy, angst-free ending on the horizon, I swear!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I am SO incredibly sorry for taking so long to finish this. School and life and everything in between devoured my life. Also the McFassy fest challenge. Second, thank you to everyone who's been reading, and who's stuck around long enough to see this through! You guys are amazing and I hope this was worth waiting for! I wanted a happy ending and here it is, all tied up nice and tidy (almost). Enjoy!

When Erik entered Hank’s lab in the east wing, he was immediately struck by a horrible sense of déjà vu. The helmet, far less refined than Shaw’s design, was hooked up by a series of multicoloured wires up to the domed ceiling and into another device, which in turn followed some convoluted pathway to a set of computer screens to the left of the installation. It dangled nearly 6 feet above a raised circular platform, lined with a steel handrail at approximately waist height. He reached out with his power and focused on the various metals within the machine, feeling them pulse at the edge of his awareness as he watched Charles step up onto the platform. 

Erik suppressed a shudder and approached Charles and the offending apparatus above his head, deliberately ignoring the trepidation building in the pit of his stomach. Charles leaned over the handrail that separated them and took Erik’s hand in his. 

“You keep projecting your anxiety like that, and I really will start having second thoughts,” Charles murmured. 

“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” 

“Ready when you are, Charles,” Hank called, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he examined the computer screens. “Are you sure we can’t shave your head?” 

“Don’t touch my hair,” Charles replied, without taking his eyes off Erik. “I could call this entire thing off right now, if you really wanted me to.” 

“But you won’t,” Erik said. “And I don’t expect you to. I said I’d support your decision, whatever the outcome, and I meant it.” He forced a small smile and squeezed Charles’ hand, then let him go and took a step backwards. 

Charles returned Erik’s smile and settled himself underneath the imposing helmet before nodding at Hank. “Let’s do this.” 

At Hank’s command, the machine lit up with a harsh, synthetic glow and Charles let out a small gasp, knuckles whitening as he gripped the handrail for support. Erik instinctively moved forward but stopped just short of touching him, afraid to disrupt the connection between Charles and Cerebro. He could still feel Charles’s presence in his mind, but their connection seemed blurred somehow, as if Charles was slightly out of focus. 

_No, that’s not right,_ Erik corrected himself. _I must be the one that’s out of focus._

Charles laughed aloud, causing both Hank and Erik to jump in surprise. “I can see them,” Charles breathed, his gaze focused on a point far beyond the confines of the lab. “I can see all of them.” He trailed off, lost in whatever new world he was seeing, while Hank ran from one computer to the other, making adjustments and scribbling down notes. 

“It’s working!” Hank exclaimed, sparing a glance at Erik as he monitored the screens. Erik, remained silent, still watching Charles apprehensively. He’d be happy about what they accomplished here when Charles was safely out of that machine and back in his arms. 

After an agonizingly long few minutes, Charles closed his eyes and ducked his head ever so slightly, evidently causing a change in the intensity of the computer’s responses. Hank obligingly powered down Cerebro while Charles removed the helmet, wobbling slightly on his feet as he stepped down off the platform. 

“I’m alright.” Charles held up a hand to stop Erik from helping him down. “Oh I wish you could have seen it though, all those minds, all those mutants out there, there are so many…” he trailed off, the smile falling from his face when he noticed Erik’s troubled expression. He slipped wordlessly into Erik’s arms and stood on tiptoe to press a reassuring kiss to his lips. 

“See?” he murmured against Erik’s mouth. “I survived the ‘Machine of Death’.” 

“I never called it that,” Erik protested. “Not out loud, anyway.” 

Charles just smirked and pulled Erik closer for another kiss, inhaling sharply as Erik caught Charles’ tongue between his teeth.   
The sound of a throat clearing behind them brought both men back to reality, and they turned simultaneously to find Hank standing awkwardly near the computer screens. 

“I, um, I’ve printed off the final coordinates,” Hank cleared his throat once more and pushed his glasses up with two fingers. “I have exact locations for the first five, but the others are more vague – no more specific than the city and state.” 

Charles moved to take the printout from Hank, but Erik wasn’t ready to let him go just yet. Charles just hummed in amusement and snaked a hand over Erik’s forearm to accept the papers. 

“As much as I love the attention, I’m not as fragile as you seem to think I am,” he commented, scanning the names on the sheet. Erik obligingly loosened his hold, allowing Charles to step back and address Hank. “The locations are all random. I would have thought the most specific results would at least be within the state.” 

Hank pushed his glasses up on his nose, the corners of his mouth quirking into a small smile. “Yes. Well, you seemed pretty overwhelmed at first. Perhaps your excitement, combined with the prototypical nature of Cerebro itself, produced more sporadic results.” 

Charles nodded. “So you’re saying with greater refinement, both from myself and the machine, we could look mutants in specific locations” 

“And maybe even make contact with them, if you wanted to,” Hank added excitedly. 

“One step at a time,” Erik interrupted. “The consequences of having a machine like this go beyond just finding others like us. We need to think about the long term.” 

Charles crossed his arms, the paper dangling from his fingertips. “If you’re going to berate me about the ‘long term’ effects of using Cerebro on my mental health—” 

“I meant,” Erik interrupted, “what exactly are you planning to do with these people once you find them? There are already twelve of us living here, and although we most definitely have the space, we need some sort of action plan before we go finding even more mutants to move in.” 

“Oh.” Charles flushed with embarrassment. “I mean, yes. I had been hoping, initially, that the mansion could function as a school, of sorts. But I haven’t even completed my GED, and none of the others are anywhere near qualified.” 

“You never graduated high school?” Erik’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Charles shrugged. “Why bother enrolling someone who spends more time in mental institutions than his own home?” 

“I just assumed, being so well-read and articulate…” 

“Raven’s doing, I assure you.” 

“Well, we’ll have to do something about that as well. You deserve a proper education,” Erik replied. “But I’m fairly certain we can’t enroll everyone in the house in correspondence courses. Not to mention, they all deserve a life in the real world.” 

“If I may,” Hank interjected, taking a tentative step forward. “Why not use this location as a residence and training facility for mutants? You know, teaching them to use and control their powers?” 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Charles mused. “I wanted this to be a sanctuary of sorts, but control and acceptance are both issues that must be addressed.” 

Hank nodded. “There’s a high school down the road as well, right in Salem Center. Bayview High? We passed it on the way in.” 

“It’s an intriguing concept,” Erik admitted. “But how long until someone else comes along and discovers there are mutants among the student body? Who’s to say those students won’t be locked away and experimented upon all over again?” 

“But if we keep them confined to this house, we’re basically doing the same thing!” Charles returned. “I want this to be a home, a place where mutants understand that they are not diseased or clinically insane because of their gifts. I want them to feel safe and welcome, not hidden from a world that doesn’t understand them!” He held up the paper in his hand. “These people deserve to live in peace, not fear. The high school could be the perfect opportunity to integrate mutants with the rest of humanity and show everyone that we are all human, and we all belong here. Like you said, Erik, they all deserve a place in the ‘real world’.” 

Erik just shook his head, a slow grin creeping across his features. “After everything you’ve been through, everything that’s been done to you, you still have so much faith in the world.” 

“Maybe I just haven’t seen enough of it yet.” 

Hank, who had been watching their exchange in silence, cleared his throat again and gestured to Cerebro. “Well. I should get back to work. I’ll leave you two to sort out further arrangements.” 

Charles slipped his hand into Erik’s and smirked at Hank. “Are you trying to get rid of us, Hank?” 

“What? N-no, of course not, I just—”

“Relax, I was only joking.” Charles tugged Erik towards the door as he spoke. “And don’t forget to come down for breakfast tomorrow. You can’t live on coffee and science alone, you know.” 

Erik offered a curt wave before closing the door behind him and Charles. “The execution will take time, but it’s definitely doable,” he said. 

“All I have is time,” Charles responded. “And it will be worth it, to prevent others from having to grow up the way I have. The way everyone in that hospital has.” 

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“There’s so much to do,” Charles continued. “Refining Cerebro, school registration for the children, and of course actually finding the mutants...in person, that is. How do we even approach them? What am I supposed to say?” 

They paused in front of their bedroom door. “The same thing you said to me,” Erik answered. “‘You’re not alone.’” 

“You always know just what to say.” Charles leaned into Erik, standing on tiptoe to steal a kiss. 

“So do you, or neither of us would be standing here right now.” He dipped his head down to nuzzle Charles’ jaw line. 

“Mm. You have a point.” Charles smiled and slipped his hand from Erik’s to trail his fingers up and under the hem of Erik’s t-shirt. “Although I would prefer if we were doing a bit less standing.” 

Erik hooked his thumbs into Charles’ belt loops and tugged him into their bedroom, nipping lightly at Charles’ throat. “I think I can remedy that.”

~

The administrative staff at Bayview High, Charles found, were quite amenable to accepting six late registrations, as long as said students possessed proof of residence and guardianship. Charles had politely thanked the secretary over the phone and hung up, defeated, until Raven stepped in with a business card for Jennifer S. Walters, Esquire. 

“Let’s just say we have a lot in common,” she’d smirked as she dialed the number, while Charles just raised an eyebrow and left her to speak with her friend. The three of them sat down that afternoon and drew up all of the documents required by the school, while Erik stayed well out of the way, claiming he’d never gotten along well with lawyers. With Jennifer’s help, Charles and Raven also registered the property as an educational facility, which, on paper at least, would begin fall classes in September for “gifted youngsters”. 

With the legal aspects out of the way, Erik was quick to remind Charles that his new students still had parents that were probably concerned about their missing children. Alex and Sean, Charles learned, were both orphaned, Marie lived with her foster mother before admitting herself into the hospital, and Angel ran away from home long before she was brought in. Charles decided against asking Ororo, having experienced her claustrophobic nightmare enough to know that her parents had been buried alive. 

Kitty, however, was a different story. Her parents were alive and well in a nice suburban neighbourhood, complete with white picket fence. When Erik phoned, Theresa Pryde had no idea that the hospital had been closed, or that her daughter had been relocated to a recently established school for the gifted. After being reassured that Kitty was receiving the best possible care, Theresa took down the address and phone number, gave a curt “Thank you, Mr. Lehnsherr”, and hung up without asking to speak to her daughter. Kitty just shrugged and phased into the next room, mumbling something about not expecting anything more. 

By the end of the week, Bayview High had six more students on their fall roster, and Charles, too, had registered for online courses starting in September. The plan was to breeze through them at his own pace, graduate by Christmas, and have applications in for universities by early January. 

“If I’m going to run a school, I should have a decent education,” Charles commented one afternoon. He and Erik were sitting outside the mansion in the grass, both barefoot and lazing in the sun. “Now that I’m out for good, I can actually sustain an academic career.” 

Erik nodded. “And what about the short term? We have an entire summer ahead of us, and a machine that will lead us straight to other mutants.” 

Charles smirked at him. “I thought you didn’t want me in Cerebro.” 

Erik stretched out his legs and Charles automatically shifted over to lie back, resting his head on Erik’s thighs. “I didn’t, but I trust you, and I believe in what we’re doing. And you haven’t answered my question.” 

“Like you said, Cerebro will lead us straight to people like us. So let’s go and find them.” 

Erik grinned. “Road trip?” 

“Road trip.” 

~

**Epilogue – September**

“Hurry up, Angel, the bus is at the corner in ten minutes!” Raven banged a fist on the bathroom door. “The boys are already downstairs!” 

“Yeah, because they’re boys!” came Angel’s muffled response. “I haven’t had a first day of school in ages, excuse me if I want to make an effort!” 

Raven just kept on going and took the stairs two at a time, reaching the bottom just as Azazel teleported into the foyer. “Where are the girls?” 

“Angel’s still primping in the bathroom, Ororo’s helping Marie choose a pair of gloves, and Kitty is—”

“Right here!” Kitty phased through the ceiling above them and landed lightly on the floor. “Am I late?” 

“Not yet,” Raven replied. “Make sure you eat before you go.” 

“Already did, I phased down there before I got dressed,” Kitty answered, glancing behind her as Ororo and Marie came down the stairs. Marie had settled on a pair of black gloves that disappeared into the sleeves of an oversized army green sweater. But what really caught Raven’s attention was the shock of white streaking through her auburn hair. 

“That’s new,” Raven nodded at Marie’s hair. 

“Angel helped me with it last night,” Marie said. “I wanted a change of pace.” 

Raven smiled at her. “It suits you. And speaking of Angel…” 

“Coming!” Angel ran down the stairs and skidded to a halt just shy of bumping into Ororo. “What are we all waiting for? We have a bus to catch!” 

Raven rolled her eyes. “Does everyone have everything? Where are the boys?” 

“Outside,” Azazel answered. “Sean is quite excited.” 

“Good. Now everyone out, the bus stops at the end of Graymalkin at exactly 8:35--”

“We know!” The girls cut her off in unison. 

“You’ve only told us like 14 times,” Kitty added. “I think we can handle catching a bus.” 

Raven sighed, and Azazel wrapped a reassuring arm around her shoulders. “I know. I’m just nervous, okay? You try sending six superpowered kids off to school for the first time.” 

The front door opened and Alex poked his head in. Are you guys coming, or what?”

“Go on, get out of here,” Raven waved them away. “And have fun!” 

The girls followed Alex out the door, but not before Kitty quipped, “It’s high school. It’s not supposed to be fun!” 

Raven leaned her head on Azazel’s shoulder. “They grow up so fast.” 

Azazel chuckled quietly. “They’ll be fine.” 

“I know.” 

“They will.” 

“I know!” Raven playfully smacked his arm. “It’s just kind of weird sending them off without Charles and Erik here. Has the mailman come yet, by the way?” 

“I’ll check.” Azazel teleported from the room and returned moments later with a stack of mail, which he handed to Raven. 

“Bills, bills, university catalogues…hey is that Oxford?” Raven raised an eyebrow. “You know, I bet he could get in. Charles is freakishly brilliant. Always has been.” She pulled a postcard from the stack, depicting a generic green alien saying “Greetings from Roswell, New Mexico!” Raven shook her head with a smile. Charles was turning into such a tourist. She turned the card over and read aloud: 

 

_Raven,_  
New Mexico is beautiful! I’ve finally gotten a tan with all of this sun, and Erik and I are both enjoying the alien-themed attractions in Roswell. Just a quick detour after meeting the last mutant, Jamie Madrox. He can create multiples of himself at will, and his power manifested at birth! This is the first case I’ve seen where a mutant ability was revealed before adolescence, though he believes it was jumpstarted by his proximity to a rather shadowy research facility.   
Erik says I should stop rambling since I’m almost out of space. I’ll tell you everything when we get back, maybe in a couple of weeks. We’re off to Las Vegas next to find a young lady that turns sound into light. I hope the first day of school goes well for everyone; I’m sure you’re counting the days until the house is quiet and empty again!  
Love, Charles 

 

“‘Maybe in a couple of weeks’,” Raven repeated, shaking her head with a smile. “That’s what the last four postcards said.” 

“He is enjoying himself,” Azazel said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Raven replied. “Charles more than deserves to get out and experience everything he’s missed out on. He needs this. Besides,” she added, “The absolute safest place for Charles is anywhere with Erik. There’s no one I would trust more with my brother.” 

Azazel moved behind her and slipped his arms around Raven’s waist. “And perhaps when they return, it will be our turn for a vacation?” 

“We’ll see.” Raven twisted to meet his lips with her own, only to nearly fall from his grasp as the entire mansion rumbled and quaked. “What the hell!” 

“Wasn’t me!” Remy shouted from the top of the stairs, a burgundy housecoat thrown over his bare chest and black boxers.   
Azazel and Raven looked at each other. “The lab,” Raven said. Azazel nodded and they teleported to the east wing. Raven stepped over the remains of the lab door and waved a hand in front of her face to clear the thick grey smoke. “Hank? Are you alright?”

His voice sounded from further in the room. “Remember that time I asked for a blood sample to study your mutation?”   
Azazel glanced at her. “You did what?” 

Raven shrugged. “He said it was for science! Well, for a bunch of research jargon I didn’t really understand, so I decided he was just saying ‘for science!’” 

“Well,” Hank’s disembodied voice continued, “I kind of used it to manipulate my own cells.” 

“Why, Hank?” Raven carefully sidestepped an overturned lab bench. “You’re perfect just the way you are.” 

“You know me, Raven. I’m never happy with the way things are.” Raven followed the sound of his voice, finally catching sight of a shadow near the far closet. “I…I was looking for a cure.” 

“You what?” Azazel and Raven demanded simultaneously. 

“For myself,” Hank added hastily. “Not for anyone else. Unless they wanted it, that is. And look where it got me.” Hank finally stepped forward, and Raven gasped in surprise. Hank looked more bestial than ever, his lab coat and clothing shredded make room for his larger, furrier, and very blue countenance. 

Raven quickly regained her composure and tried to look serious. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “I guess the blue is a little bit my fault.” 

Hank stared at her for a minute, then burst out laughing, a strange but not unpleasant growl from low in his throat. 

“Mon dieu!” Remy stumbled over some debris as he stared, wide-eyed, at Hank. “You’re blue!” 

Raven wheeled around and glared daggers at him, ready to pick a fight, until Remy added, “It suits you, Henri.” He glanced at Raven, who had only slightly relaxed. ‘Never a dull moment in this place, hmm?” 

Raven looked down at Charles’ postcard, still gripped tightly in her hand. ‘Quiet and empty’, Charles? As if. She grinned at Remy. “Just the way I like it.”


End file.
